Hubby went to the golf course today, not one of his regular golfing days, but a day of the week, so it qualified. We had spent the morning doing chores and taking the RV to be worked on (AGAIN!!!!), so I was perfectly content for him to go. Happy even. Ecstatic. Euphoric. Blissful. I would love to tell you that I used the time doing something productive, but it would be a lie.
When he walked in the door, he said, "I've left my phone somewhere." It's not the first time that has happened. We've had to make trips back to the golf course to retrieve his phone from the golf cart. We've found it between the seat and the console in his truck. He was convinced he had left it in the cart again, and he said Bart would have gotten it for him.
"Call my phone," he said, "and tell Bart I'll come get it."
I called his phone, not at all certain Bart would have gotten it, or even that it wasn't sitting in the seat of his truck. It rang a couple of times, and I was shocked when someone answered.
"Is this [Hubby's] phone?" I joked, thinking it was Bart.
"Uh.....I guess so," said a voice I didn't recognize. "I just found it in the road. At the corner of Highway 11 and Punkin Junction."
Yes, sadly, there is a road named Punkin Junction in our town. Not PUMPKIN Junction, mind you, but Punkin Junction. It's one of my favorite cycling roads, and Rozmo likes to ride on it just so she can say the name.
Punkin Junction. Punkin Junction. Punkin Junction. Hard to say three times fast. Pretty hard to type. Copy/paste works well, though.
Apparently Hubby put the phone either on the bumper of his truck or the little running-board-type thingie, and it made it about a mile and a half before it fell off. And just as a guy saw it and stopped to pick it up, I called the number.
The guy waited for Hubby to come back and get it, and Hubby didn't even give him a reward! I guess people shouldn't really be rewarded for doing the right thing.
I wonder if he would have kept the phone if I hadn't called it......