Phone, where the hell is the phone?

The invention of the cordless phone is a beautiful thing, because it allows us the freedom not to be strapped the wall. We can wander in our clearly defined boundary circle of reception around our house doing our chores, going to the bathroom, or just sitting outside that we couldn't do before. Or at least not without 20 feet of cable strewn all over the house, just lying in wait for unsuspecting family members.

But with that freedom comes a exchange of torture. The mad scurrying dance that we make when the phone rings. We hear it, now we have to find it the receiver. Where did we put the phone? Wait, pause, listen, I hear it again, it's over there. Crap, we only have 4 rings the answer it before voicemail (I swear to myself that I will change it to 6), so our scrambling gets more frantic with each ringy-dingy.

Plus, it's guaranteed, not to be in the same location as the last time. Some days, I miss my corded phone.