Dropped Call

I lost my cell phone.
Of course I did.
Turns out I dropped it.
On Larkhall Street.
Some nice lady named Amanda found it.
She then called my grandmother because it was the latest number in the phone.
Amanda caught my Aunt Barabara in my grandmother's room.
Thank fuck.
If Amanda had gotten Nan on the phone, they both would have been greatly confused.
And Nan would've had Amanda talking about the weather for half an hour.
Amanda was eventually put into contact with my mother.
This is just another item to add to the mass list of things that my family can ostracize me about.
I've said it before and I'll say it again:
No matter how old you are, when you're the youngest, you're the youngest.
I've never said that before.
But I've said shit like it.