Call My Boobs

I’ve had one of those ‘craft’ moments, my brain was absolutely no help, all it had to do was remember one simple thing.  Settle back and picture the scene…..

I have a distant relationship with my mobile, often it is in the draw needing to be charged to get the code to log into some secure online account or whatever. I might top it up once a year or eighteen months, you see if people need me they call my landline, email or message me via t’internet. I think I’ve just heard the whole teenage generation faint nthe surprise.

An on-going situation requires me to keep the thing handy.  I had made my coffee, shuffled back to the sofa and sat ready to tackle a to-do or two ….. where’s my phone …..

• Is it hiding under the tv magazine …. No
• Is it caught up with my crochet …. No
• Did it slide off the side table …. No
• Did it slip between the cushions …. No
• Has it fallen into the wool bag beside the table …. No
• Did I leave it on my desk …. No
• Did I leave it by the bed or on the pillow …………..

As I was resigning to having to get up and go look I felt something move.

It was in my bra, it had been snuggled in there all warm for the past few hours since I’d got dressed in the morning.