Did you take my phone? The teenager wants to know.
No. Why would I take your phone? I respond.
He checks all his pockets in his pants, his hoodie, his hockey jacket. No phone.
He starts to panic a little.
Maybe you left it in the car, I suggest.
No, I didn’t, he says.
We’re sitting in the dentist office waiting for the kids to get their cleaning.
I flash back to the bank where I went prior to going to the dentist. I left the kids in the car, but they both followed me to the teller.
Did he maybe leave it there?
He thinks not.
My son keeps patting down his various pockets, then started unzipping all the bags I had with me.
I had two bags, both with several zippers.
I don’t have your phone, I repeat, trying to get him to stop rummaging through my stuff.
He continues to search.
Finally, he sits down beside me and snatches my phone out of my hands.
I hate that.
Never mind that I don’t want him in my apps, but that’s just rude.
Ask me to call your phone, I say under my breath. Don’t just take my phone.
I worry the secretaries are watching this. Where did I go wrong with this kid?
He ignores me. Starts looking through my apps (I really hate that) and then types into Google “find my phone”.
My phone’s Android, I say. Yours is Apple.
Of course the search comes up as unsupported…
I take my phone back and offer to call his phone.
He gets up, pats down his jacket again, and finds his phone in some obscure pocket.
PS. Send wine. Or at least thoughts and prayers.