I was focused on the sports radio banter this morning and negotiating heavy traffic on the Lake Hefner Parkway when my 2-year-old grandson began shouting “GiGi! GiGi!”
I didn’t pick up on it immediately.
However, Solomon was relentless from his car seat in the back. “GiGi! GiGi!”
Suddenly, a red Ford Escape cut sharply into my lane just in front of me. I looked at it and thought that it resembled my family’s vehicle. Then the Ford Escape slowed, put on its blinker and began pulling to the shoulder amid the heavy traffic.
That’s when I saw it. The small sticker on the bumper. That WAS our car. Then it hit me why Solomon was shouting GiGi! My wife Paula, his grandmother, had cut us off on the Lake Road and was pulling us over.
So, I pulled in behind her. She hopped out of her car and began running to our car.
I imagined the worst. Had someone in our family died and this is how she was going to break the news to me, here on the shoulder of the Lake Hefner Parkway?
I rolled down my window and she said, “I think I left my phone in your car.”
Apparently, she had left the phone in the car when she buckled Solomon into his car seat. And her phone was critical to her work-from-home job.
After we left for Solomon’s appointment, Paula realized she didn’t have her phone, jumped in the car and began chasing after us. She managed to catch up on the Lake Road, but couldn’t get my attention until she cut me off with Solomon shouting “GiGi!,” his favorite name for her.
Paula crawled into the back seat and said “call my phone.” I called it and her phone began ringing from the back seat. She couldn’t find it and crawled back out.
“Call it again,” she said. I called, and it started ringing. She crawled across the back seat again.
I glanced back and saw it.
Paula’s phone was sticking out of the back pocket of her jeans. It had been there the entire time.
We both (sort of) laughed when we realized where the phone actually was.
And I’ll never let her live it down.