Where oh Where has my Cell Phone Gone?

It is said often that when a woman is pregnant she becomes scatterbrained. I have taken every opporunity to blame any embarrassing moments or ridiculous actions on this very fact since March, when I first found out we were pregnant. Once I even tried to put a lit candle INSIDE a cabinet before I (luckily) came to my senses and realized the hairspray went in the cabinet, the candle on the shelf. Yesterday my memory seemed to test me in a very cruel and mocking way. My cell phone disappeared. Now, when I say it disapperead, I mean I lost it. I noticed its absence sometime Thursday afternoon, while home at lunch. I remembered it wasn't in my purse and I needed to grab it from my nightstand (where I always leave it). Hmm, not there. I went to the cell phone's second and third most popular locations, finding nothing but empty counterspace and coffee tables that seemed to be laughing at me. I decided I needed to get back to work and I would find it after work. Not a big deal, right? Brian called me at work to inform me he would be working late and then going to get his hair cut. I told him my phone was MIA, so not to worry if I didn't answer. On my way home that evening, I retraced my steps...when was the LAST time I had used it? I knew for sure I had used it on my way home from work Wednesday, as I had called Brian and he hadn't answered. We both arrived home at the same time that night, and when I got out of the car he said, "Sorry I didn't answer, I was talking to Eric." So the good news was it was on our property! Car, garage, in the house? I got home yesterday determined I just hadn't looked enough and it was staring me in the face. I retraced what I thought were my steps from the prior day. Brian was here, so he went downstairs and let the doggies out. I went upstairs to take off my painful shoes. Then we sat on the couch and read mail and magazines we had recieved in the mail that day. Aha! The couch, of course!! I began throwing pillows off the couch, then the cushions, while the dogs looked at me as if they wanted to help, but were pretty unsure of the crazy woman's behavior. It wasn't in the couch cushions. Nor was it in any drawers. Or on any tables, even amid magazines. I began to wonder if my phone was still on and if we could hear it ring if I JUST had another phone (reason #99 why we are getting a land line soon). I stepped over to our kind neighbors house and Nate and Hayden (their new beautiful handsome son) came over and he called my cell a few times. We heard nothing, but it WAS ringing on his end, which meant it was still on. Now I worried it was on vibrate, as I keep it that way during work. Hmm, that could pose a problem, but you can still hear the vibrations, usually. I convinced myself I must not let this drive me mad. I would clean the kitchen and begin dinner. But every time I started cleaning I would think of a new place (or a place I thought I hadn't checked thouroughly enough). This mad behavior continued until Brian came home at 8:20. He suggested we eat dinner and then search. I told him he was insane (remember, by now this had driven me to be wild haired and worried that I had not only lost my phone, but my mind). We checked his recent calls and indeed I HAD called him at 5 PM Wed. VICTORY! We knew the phone had to be somewhere at our home. BUT WHERE? We called my phone over and over, searching the house for the sign of ringing, vibrating or a blinking light (my phone has a light that is activated when it rings). We then ventured into the garage. We searched the car (again), under the car, the shelving in the garage. I was ready to climb into the attic. Maybe my phone had learned to fly. I sighed and told Brian, "I am afraid the only place left to look is the trash. I am worried that my phone was sitting on the counter and fell into the trash." We opened the big, tall garbage pail outside and dialed my phone. The most glorious sound in the world came from the garbage pail...MY RINGING PHONE, lighting up the whole thing! We were trying to decifer which bag it was in when Brian made the discovery that it wasn't in a bag...it was at the very bottom of the pail, on its own. Do you realize what that means? I threw my phone away. It didn't fall in. I THREW IT AWAY!!! We have concluded (after some more retracing, of course) that I was throwing away trash from my car and when I tossed it in, as I chatted with my hubby, I tossed my phone in as well. Poor phone was very traumatized but had played it safe by staying charged so we could hear it. Good thing, since the trash went out this morning. To get the phone out we had to take out almost all of this weeks trash bags, then take a shovel to dig the phone from the bottom (its a very tall and wide garbage pail, so "reaching in" is not an option). So, if you doubt that a pregnant woman is scatterbrained, take it from me...or from my poor cell phone, we certainly are certifiably DING DONGS!