Reaganing

Lemon, you may be witnessing history here. Making it through a full twenty four hours without a single misstep is called "Reaganing." The only other people who've ever done it: Lee Iacocca, Jack Welch, and -- no judement -- Saddam Hussein. So, what have you got for me? ~ Jack Donaghy {30 Rock}


It was one of those dream days. You know the type. Well, not the walk on the beach and sip a glass of wine type, although usually that is my dream day. I mean the type when no pile or laundry of length of to-do list can stop you. You are the queen of your domain and problems just better watch out.

So, not to toot my own horn, but it was an awesome day.
Tasks were accomplished!
Grocery shopping was perfectly timed with daycare pick up!
Dinner was made during nap time!
Emails were sent and answered!
THE TO DO LIST WAS ALL CROSSED OFF.

It was in this aura of smug accomplishment that Cruz and I set off for our evening walk to check out the Christmas lights in our neighborhood. He has made the connection that Christmas = decorations and he has loved looking at all the pretty lights on our street. It was such a fun, sweet moment, walking around the neighborhood as the twilight grew darker, and more and more lights came on. We walked through the playground on the way back to our house; Cruz stopped and asked the fateful question that turned the day on its head: Carry you?

I picked him up as I stepped off the curb into the street.

His little foot kicked against my sweatshirt pocket.

My iphone flew out.

Landed on the street.

Slid down an embankment and like it knew where it was going, dove straight into the storm drain.

Oh hell no. Not today, world. Any other day you can give me disaster but I'm not taking it right now. And forgive me because I never thought I'd say this, but I am Reaganing today.  I should have panicked, but didn't. Yes, my expensive phone was presumably sitting at the bottom of a flooded cesspool, but I sensed that the entire day hinged on this moment. Time to rise to the challenge.

We ran home. Cruz was crying, "Mommy's phone! Mommy's phone!" which only added to the drama of the moment. I dropped him off with Tovi, armed myself with the Maglite and kitchen tongs and went out to destroy me some storm drain.

It wasn't as deep as I'd feared, but I couldn't see my phone anywhere, and I wanted to get it quickly as every few minutes new water would rush through the bottom. I ran back home and grabbed Tovi's phone, hoping that by hearing my ringtone, I'd be able to pinpoint its location (note: I was very, very careful not to drop this one). Bingo. Most days are normal, but somedays my genius surprises me.

Score one for team skinny girl arms; Reader, I got that phone back. I shed my dignity, legs sticking straight out into the street with my upper body halfway down a storm drain, as the good people of my neighborhood drove home from work. Who knows what kind of diseases and vermin live down there, but nothing could survive the heavy Lysol job I gave me and my phone when we got back home.

Total victory. Reaganed.