I did laundry last night. I always ask Collin if he's checked all of his pockets before bringing his clothes to the washer. He always says yes. And I end up finding money, cash register receipts, and other items in the dryer. In fact, our dryer still has tiny black streaks inside from the ballpoint pen he forgot.
Last night, when I opened the dryer at the end of the the cycle, a small piece of plastic immediately fell out. It was part of his Bluetooth.
I took the earpiece to him for a positive ID. He wasn't nearly as upset as I thought he'd be. Still, I felt bad for him. He almost always had the thing stuck in his ear. I was starting to think it was some alien life form that was using his ear as a portal to take control of his brain.
The jury's still out on that, by the way.
I also have a Bluetooth. I rarely use it. It's not that I don't like it. I just rarely talk on the phone. With a few exceptions, I hate talking on the phone--and when I do, I almost always use my Kyocera Loft, leaving the Droid for more important things, like email, ebooks, audio books, music, and editing.
So, realizing Collin needed it more than I did, I offered him mine. This meant he would have to un-pair both phones from their respective Bluetooth device and pair my Bluetooth to his phone.
The device divorce didn't work.
"Maybe they mate for life," I suggested. "Your phone doesn't want another mate."
I noticed my phone had refused to surrender its own Bluetooth connection. It wouldn't let another phone have its mate. How sweet.
Collin suggested his Bluetooth might not be hopeless. After all, how many stories have we heard of smartphones surviving a quick dip in a toilet. I pointed out that his Bluetooth had also gone through a tumble in the dryer. On high heat.
"It died a horrible death," I said solemnly. "It must have been terrified."
"No, no, no," Collin said, refusing to listen.
It's my own fault I have trouble getting him to throw anything away....