Transport Your Cell Phone In Style

For Thanksgiving week, my boys and I rented a house on airbnb in Kirkland, Washington so Tobias could work in the Redmond office while America feasted. We had Thanksgiving a week early in Portland for many reasons, but mostly so my sisters and their husbands could celebrate it twice. Also, because my Danish husband still works for Europeans and they don't celebrate Thanksgiving at all.

Kirkland, Washington has many qualities to recommend it, not least of which is Cafe Juanita, which serves seductive Italian food. But this is not a tale of delicious meals nor a commentary on cultural differences. This is a story of holiday miracles and technology. Namely, my Nokia Lumia 1020.

Let me state for the record that I am not good with cell phones. I drop them, lose them, scratch them and most of all, am certain it's not healthy to be in constant contact with cellular radiation. The only reason I own one is because I have a child and a husband who occasionally require instant connection.

Tobias, in his infinite generosity, brought home the Lumia for my birthday this year because it has an amazing camera and I do love taking photos. Since February 2014, I have had the phone replaced four times. 4. Why? Because the focus keeps breaking. Why? You got me.

Flash back to Turkey Week in Kirkland, where I am hauling the hale Espen to parks, cafes and lake fronts for fabulous photo opportunities. The babe does not disappoint. In fact, he is developing a keen sense for movement at the precise moment I press the digital clicker.

He is also getting faster by the day. As in running, squirming, leaning and wiggling. Sometimes it's a blur trying to remember how we got from car to house.

Yesterday, Wednesday, was one such day. Summer, my fair sister and two day Espen Co-Wrangler, had departed for sunny Southern California and I was riding herd solo with the Wild Wesp of the West. By the time we'd driven back from our morning adventures to the pleasing country town of Duvall, he was flailing and squealing in spontaneous formations that left me disoriented and confused. Somewhere between the car seat and the front door, my cell phone went missing.

Wesp went down for his nap and I went rampaging through the house, the lawn and the car. Normally, I'd dance a frisky jig with the joy of being freed from my cellular slaver, but today I needed to make sure Tobias had a way of getting home. The phone equaled my wifely responsibilities. Mostly, I didn't want to face an evening of wild babies alone. Nonetheless, the phone was gone. Tobias made it home without my help.

When he arrived, we managed to corral Espen into his car-seat and made the curving, ten minute drive to downtown Kirkland. Our car Brian is a Subaru Legacy who shifts like a stubborn mule. There may also be a narcoleptic relay between the gas pedal and the engine. Driving Brian evens the Driver Playing Field so everyone drives like a 15 year old trying to clutch a hill.

Just so, after some uninspiring Mexican food for dinner, we piled in the car and sputtered around corners and up hills, bucking all the way home. Espen loves to comment on any deviation from a smooth ride with a sweet, "Uh-oh." from the back seat, providing a consistent baseline to most drives. Last night was no different.

When we arrived back home, I pulled Espen out of the car. Tobias very nonchalantly said, "There's your phone." I looked at the back seat next to Espen's car seat. "I already looked there!" I protested.

Then I realized Tobias was not leaning into the car. He was standing straight up.

I straightened up slowly and looked at him over the roof of the car. "Where?" I whispered.

He pointed at my chin. I stared down at the placid white plastic of my phone. On top of it glistened the spare car key.

"Wow." said Espen.


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