Like most people who still have land-lines, Ken and I have cordless phones. They are so portable the darn devices never seem to be where we are! Needless to say, this is a perplexing problem, especially for Ken because it takes so much effort on a good day to get up and try to answer Mr. Bell’s invention before the caller hangs up.
A few months ago, Ken thought he had a solution to this problem. He felt good, so he decided to do the laundry and took one of the cordless phones with him to the basement. Because his balance is so “wonky,” he threw the phone in the laundry basket and carefully made his way down the stairs. By the time he got to the basement, his short term memory forgot the phone was in the laundry basket. He went through his normal routine of checking the washing selections, measuring the soap, turning on the machine, and dumping the clothes in the washer. Then, he returned upstairs to work on something else while the machine went through the cycle.
About an hour later, Ken went downstairs with another basket of laundry, and to switch the first load from the washer into the dryer. As he took made the switch, he discovered the phone in with the washed clothes. Of course, his first thought was, “Oh, God! Barb’s going to kill me!” So, he dried the phone, brought it upstairs put it on the kitchen charger to dry out, and prayed it would still work, and he wouldn’t have to confess his sin.
When a friend called a day later, I answered the phone which had had this deep sea adventure. The caller couldn’t hear me, but I could hear him. I thought we must have a bad connection, so I told him I would call him back, but I had the same results. Then I tried the other phone in the bedroom and that one worked just fine. I nonchalantly told Ken I thought the phone in the kitchen must need a new battery. It was then Ken confessed his bone-head phone washing incident.
My first reaction was, “You’re kidding?” Then, I just laughed. Not a chuckle. Not a smirk. A whole-hearted belly laugh which came up from my diaphragm and brought tears to my eyes. MS had struck again!
Ken felt relieved I wasn’t angry with him. I guess through the years, we’ve gotten used to his “accidents,” which usually end up costing money to fix. But, luckily, it was Christmastime and our friends and relatives had been very generous to us. So I took fifty bucks, went to the store, bought a new charger and two phones, and brought them home. After struggling to remove the packaging, Voila! We had phone service again.
But our original problem remains. We still haven’t worked out a way to have a phone situated where we are.