On Sunday evening, my husband and I took the kids to the local Mexican eatery for dinner. This is your usual Mexican restaurant. They serve chips and salsa until you are about to pop and there are 6 pages to the menu, yet each of the 103 items is made out of the exact same ingredients, just combined in a slightly different way.
This restaurant is great though, because they serve a free dessert at the end of the meal. So if you aren't already about to pop wide open at the seams, they bring out a plate containing one large sugary tortilla chip for each person at the table. And on top of the sugary tortilla is a big dollop of whipped cream and a cherry on top of that. I love free food so it keeps me going back.
Brilliant marketing ploy on the part of my friends at El Paisano.
While we were waiting on our food, Sarah was going through my purse. She was pulling out pens, paper, my make up case, my hair brush, my cell phone, etc. I stopped her before she could pull out any tampons and wave them around.
I separated her from my purse and got back to the business at hand - gorging myself on chips and salsa. Did I mention, I love free food?
Later that night after the kids were in bed, I decided I need to charge my cell phone. I went to retrieve it from it's normal spot in my purse, the little cell phone pocket all purses have now.
It wasn't there. I checked the other spot in my purse where it normally ends up... floating around at the bottom...and it wasn't there either. I opened the huge zippered pocket in the center of my purse and dumped out the contents of my entire bag and no phone.
Panic set in. Where is my phone?
Then I remembered Sarah was playing with it in the restaurant. Whew. It must be there. I slept easy Sunday night knowing that my cell phone was probably wedged in between the cushion and the booth at El Paisano.
I arrived at the restaurant on Monday morning and told the man at the front that I left my cell phone there last night. He checked behind the hostess stand and said, "No. No cell phone here."
So I asked if I could check our booth and hurried over. I starting to panic thinking that perhaps my free pinkish purplish cell phone was lost and gone forever. I looked behind the cushion.
My waiter from the previous night rushed over and started moving booths for me.
A man who I assume to be the owner scurried out and started moving tables around.
The the man at the hostess station asked for my cell phone number. He said he would call it and if it were in the restaurant it would start ringing and we could find it.
Good idea! all the other workers were saying, but as soon as I started reciting my cell phone number, I had a sinking feeling.
Don't dial my number. Don't do it, I was screaming in my head because right at that moment, I got a sinking feeling.
And then my cell phone started to ring.
In my purse.
Apparently there is another zippered compartment that I didn't bother to unzip and check when I was frantically going through my purse on Sunday night.
How do you say 'dumb blonde' in Spanish? Because I'm pretty sure that's what they were saying as I was walking out.