This story is adapted from one I told on this blog years ago, but my girl asked for it again. So Abs, this is for you.

Scott and I did not jump on the cell phone band wagon as soon as it started rolling along. There were two reasons for this: 1) We knew that technology becomes cheaper if you wait a while, and 2) in the words of my nephew, Scottie, we’re “old foggies.”

So, it wasn’t until 2005, that we finally sprung for cell phones. Ahh! Early millennial cell phones—they flipped, you know. These were a major purchase for us, and were intended to last a long time.

One day, Abigail had a few friends over for lunch. I was busy filling soup bowls, filling water glasses, fetching crackers and grapes. After all the friends were set for lunch, I sat down to enjoy my soup.

I glanced around, saw my cell phone on the table, then noticed an absolute forest of water glasses. I wondered why I had filled the glasses so full and why they looked so. . .so menacing. I looked at the water glasses, looked at my cell phone, looked at the water glasses, plucked my phone up to avoid the imminent flood—and dropped it in my soup.

Oh, yes. I did.

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