In those early morning hours, I use my multi-purpose iPhone as a flash light. For the first time ever, ehhh, OK, for the first time since my "home button" broke ( Home Button Failure ), my iPhone let me down. Unknowingly, while keeping my phone on for extra light, my finger slipped into my call log. Here, in my call log, was my wonderful, understanding brother-in-law, Jonathan. My finger, of course, hit the button and dialed up big Jon at approximately 5:30 a.m.
As soon as it happened, I realized and hit the End Call button. Damn button was frozen. I hit it repeatedly, feeling more and more nervous with each hit. "Oh my God," I was saying out loud at this point. "Please, oh my God." When I finally got the call to end, it had already rang for a good, solid year and a half. Immediately following my hang up, Jonathan called back. All I could say was, "I'm so sorry. I hit the wrong button. I'm so sorry." And, I genuinely meant it! I felt horrible all day long thinking about how I had alarm clocked Jonathan this morning.
When I got home from work I got a chance to speak to Jonathan while he was actually awake and aware. The real person I needed to be apologizing to was Lauren, Jonathan's fiance. A saint prior to this little happening, a patron saint after. Poor Lauren thought something was wrong when I called at 5:30 a.m., as I figured they would have, and woke up completely. Awoken completely, she could not fall back to sleep. So, rather than going back to sleep, she did what any patron saint would do and baked blueberry muffins for breakfast.
So, while a 5:30 a.m. phone call seemingly sucked on the outside, it greatly benefitted Jonathan in the end. I think rather than the incessant apologizing I've been doing, he should be thanking me. No call, no blueberry muffins!
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