When I’m left too long all by myself

Alternately titled:

This is what I think of while I’m alone and it makes me laugh out loud and then get embarassed because there’s no one with me

Or

this won’t be nearly as funny to you because you weren’t with me

The other day I was heading home from somewhere (the details aren’t important) but while I was stopped at a stop sign I took a moment to check my phone because I heard it blip at me (country road, no one behind me, don’t get excited). So I hit the button to wake up my Droid and slid my finger down the phone to open my home screen.

Normal every day activity, right?

Yes. Except you didn’t see what I had facebooked earlier that day (or maybe you did and you didn’t comment or you don’t care what I facebook). If you missed it, I’ll show you again (because otherwise the rest won’t make any sense):

And because I have to know what people think of my facebook posts, I checked this one incessantly from my phone.

And I liked looking at the picture.

The last time that I looked at the update though, I thought to myself, “Hmm. Can I put this on my phone? You know, just… for me?” So I set it as my wallpaper and didn’t think anything of it again.

Until I was driving. By myself. And I was stopped at that stop sign. And I woke up my phone. And I slid my finger down Ryan Reynold’s Chest in order to see my home screen. (Do you see where this is going?)

Then I thought… what a lucky girl I am… I get to slide my fingers down Ryan Reynold’s chest (that gorgeous, chiseled, OMGYUM chest) any.old.time. I want… Scarlett Johanson and Sandra Bulock WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU WOMEN?

And the whole idea of me randomly petting my phone made me laugh. Uncontrollably and loudly. In my car. While I sat at the stop sign.

Sorry you all missed it.

About Nichole Smith

Nichole Smith has written 547 posts on The Guilty Parent.

Founder of The Guilty Parent and Chaos in the Country (now part of The Guilty Parent), Nichole is a writer, blogger, social media strategist, wife to one, mother to four and embracer of mommy guilt.

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