It was six am. The morning of departure. We had a looong day’s drive ahead of us. 1100 kilometres, some of it through Melbourne’s evening rush hour traffic. The plan was to leave early. We had a funeral to go to.
Alas, like all good plans, this one was foiled from the start.
TRH (The Retired Husband) had not slept well. At 6am he was in the deepest of deep sleeps.
I did not have the heart to wake him as planned. Another half hour I thought. After all, he was going to be doing all the driving. I never do on road trips. I sleep. Quietly, I got everything ready before waking him.
He beat me to it. Some internal alarm had sounded that time was marching on.
Mobile phone in hand, searching for the best route, he sat on the Man Throne. That is the last I saw of it. The phone that is.
Having loaded the luggage into the car and deposited the last of the rubbish in the bin, it was time to go.
Except – where was the mobile?
He searched the house. I searched the house. He retraced his last steps. I did the same. Man eyes are just not the same, after all, are they?
We called the mobile on my mobile. Not a peep to be heard. Not even a soft rumbling vibration.
We called again. And again. Nothing.
He had a quick look in the bins – and the car.
Tess was confused. Were we going or not? She had seen all the tell tales signs days ago and was busy being miserable. Even deposited herself on the driveway in front of the car in the hopes we would not go. At least not without her. And now, after taking her back inside, I had already given her the ‘we are going now’ nibble. And she had eaten it. But we kept going in and out of the house!
We could not waste any more time looking for a mobile phone that clearly did not want to come on a road trip with us.
TRH had eight days of mobile free travelling. This is not so bad, he thought.
On arriving back home, the hunt was back on for the elusive mobile.
He searched high and low. He emptied bins and combed through them like a detective looking for clues. He looked under beds and behind cupboards with torch in hand.
So – where is it? All we can do is assume it went out with the rubbish. Our household bin was emptied in our absence.
TRH has had to admit defeat and order a new one.
Anyone found a lost mobile? You can keep it. Just send TRH the SIM card.
© Raili Tanska