Sometimes truth really is stranger than fiction. Today, I must diverge from my usual helpful hints and product reviews to share a story of comedic tragedy. While on my regular walk with one of my favorite gal pals today my cell phone decided to take its own life by diving head-first into a large body of water.

Let me try to recreate the scene of the cell phone suicide that I witnessed. It’s so unbelievable you wouldn’t believe it unless you saw it with your own eyes. (I’m so glad I have a witness to corroborate my story. Her sworn eyewitness statement is available upon request.)

I was a good three to four feet from the edge of a wide walkway that borders our beautiful harbor. I’ve personally trodden this terrain hundreds of times in the years I’ve lived here. I know it like the back of my hand. Today’s walk was no different than our walks on any other day—until we rounded a corner. I don’t recall hitting a bump or making a jerky movement, but suddenly and unexpectedly my phone jumped out of the cup holder, rolled several feet, slipped under the protective railing and plopped into the water a dozen feet below. While the entire incident happened in a matter of seconds, it felt as if it happened in slow motion. No attempt to leap or grab for the device would have saved my lovely Motorola Q Smartphone from its apparent sudden death.

My friend and I stared at each other in disbelief. We reviewed the events in our minds and wondered, Was this accidental death or was it really a successful suicide attempt? How could this have happened and without warning? I pondered the recent weeks leading up to this moment and thought, Was I a bad cell phone mom? Did I overuse my phone without charging it adequately? Had I been texting too much behind the wheel, causing my phone to participate involuntarily in illegal activities? Or maybe Q felt she could no longer continue as a family member because of a recent but brief abandonment in the couch cushions. The pressure must have been unbearable to be left unaccounted for amongst companions such as dirty toddler-sized socks, several tablespoons of sand, and the remnants of sticky snack foods that missed my children’s mouths. Again I questioned my own responsibility in the matter. Was it all too much for Q? Was it my own abuse of my all-in-one-PDA-phone that caused today’s tragic series of events?

But my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of my friend’s cell phone ringing. I jokingly thought, It’s Q calling to say, “Help! Rescue me! I see you walking away. Don’t leave me here! I’m drowning!!” But it was just my friend’s husband calling.

Later, when I called my phone company to cash in on my insurance (thank heavens I ponied up the extra cash for that since I’m usually too cheap to pay the extra fee) the woman taking my information asked me, “Do you know where you lost your phone?”  As I relayed my mishap to this stranger in the insurance claims department, she laughed hysterically. I realize the silver lining, to this less than delightful start to my day, is that I made this woman’s day. I could tell by her laughter that she doesn’t usually laugh that hard or that long while on the clock. When she could finally get out the words she said, “I’ve worked here a long time, and I’ve heard a lot of stories about how people lose their cell phones, but that is hands-down the best story I’ve ever heard. You win!”