I have a gift. My gift? Letting my phone die ALL THE TIME. Pretty much every time Noah and I go out, I realize, after leaving the house, that my phone is almost dead. Every time. Anberlin show two weeks ago? It was at 20% when we walked out the door. My birthday dinner on Friday? It was at 15% as I was waiting at the restaurant for Noah to find a parking spot.
It’s a calling. Maybe a calling to leave my phone alone for a while? No, I don’t think that’s it. (What if my babies NEED ME?!)
Noah had already gotten me a birthday present, but on Friday he texted me that he’d ordered me something else, too. Yesterday the Purolator guy delivered it.
I was told that it was something that I needed, and something I’d probably be able to use right away. I had no idea. It took all my willpower to not log into Noah’s Amazon account to take a peek. I would have had no idea one of these existed if it wasn’t for Angella saving my butt at Blissdom last October, when my phone went dead at the costume party. It’s a portable phone charger. Genius? YES.
He’s a thoughtful guy, that dude I married. That and he likes the ability to get a hold of me, and not have his phone stolen when mine dies.