The other excitement of Thursday night was realizing that our phone card was missing. Our 300 minute phone card. Our 300 minute phone card that cost $18. :-S We had been keeping it on the end table, beside or underneath the phone. So I looked all over, under and around the table. Pulled it out, raked through the top drawer and even all of my stuff underneath, in case it had fallen and gotten mixed in with the other junk. Nope. I decided I’d spent enough time looking and called it quits for the night. The most likely scenario is that Sam took the card. He’s usually our resident “theifer,” as he calls it. I figured I’d wait until this morning and ask him about it before I wasted any more time searching. For all of his bad qualities, Sam has a terrific memory. I could tear the whole room apart looking for that card, then ask him about it and he’d stroll over and whip it out of a cowboy boot or his underwear drawer or something.

So this morning I asked him. Nope. Hadn’t seen it. (He may be a thief, but he’s usually not ashamed to admit it.) So then began the search. I moved both beds and looked in every purse, wallet and pocket in the room (not to mention RE-looking everywhere I had looked the night before) while I had the kids dump out the toy box and replace each item one at a time in case the card had ended up in there. Still nothing. We had exhausted every possibility. About an hour later James picked up his regional planning guide and ker-plunk, out dropped the phone card. You have no idea how happy it made me. :-) JAMES had misplaced the phone card! Wa-Hoo!!! Point for Team Becki!!! (Insert crowd cheering wildly) YES!!! This will go down in my little book of important things to remember for future reference. Like the next time I leave my purse in Jason’s office or forget a booster seat in a vehicle not belonging to us (both of which I happened to do just yesterday), I can whip out my little book, look it up and say, “Oh yeah?! Well, remember when you lost the phone card and your wife and three children spent 4 hours (slight exaggerations are always appropriate in these instances, but only if coming from the wife) tearing up a motel room looking for it?! HHMMMM????” All of this must be said in accusing—but loving, mind you—tones, while squinting and arching the eyebrow nearest your dear husband. :-) ~sigh~ I only wish he’d do these things more often. It’s pretty hard to keep the playing field even when he only averages 3 mistakes a year and I manage that many a week. Still, as any good wife, I can make his last a long, long time. :-)