Too full on her I bet. Not reading that essay.
My husband went on a “boys’ weekend camping trip” up north. Before he left, he told me there’d be zero cell service, so I shouldn’t worry if I didn’t hear from him.
Around 11 p.m. on Saturday, I was watching TV when the doorbell rang. Standing there was his best friend’s fiancée, looking like she’d been crying.
Without saying much, she held up her iPad. She had used Find My to track her fiancé’s device, which had accidentally remained connected to their shared account.
“The campsite is four hours north,” she said quietly. “But their location is showing a boutique hotel downtown. Five miles from here.”
At that exact moment, my phone buzzed with a text from my husband:
“Hey babe, finally climbed a hill and got a bar of service. Miss you. Going to sleep in the tent now.”
She looked at the message, then at me.
“Call him,” she said. “Put it on speaker. Ask him how the campfire is.”
I called.