I Said It Was Charged

We were already halfway out the door when he asked, “Did you charge it?”

I didn’t even slow down.

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

It was not fine.

I had plugged it in earlier… for maybe ten minutes. Which, in my head, counted.

We got where we were going, I pulled it out, hit the button—

Nothing.

Not even a flicker.

I pressed it again like that was going to magically fix it.

Still nothing.

He just stood there next to me, quiet.

Not even looking at me yet, which somehow made it worse.

I turned it over, checked it like I didn’t already know what the problem was.

Dead.

Completely dead.

I said, “That’s weird.”

He nodded a little and said, “How long did you leave it on the charger?”

I paused.

Long enough for me to realize I shouldn’t answer that honestly.

“…a bit.”

He didn’t push it.

Didn’t ask anything else.

Just gave that small nod like, yeah, that tracks.

We ended up having to work around it, which took longer and made everything more complicated than it needed to be.

The whole time, I kept thinking about how avoidable it was.

On the way back, I finally said, “Don’t.”

He looked over and said, “I’m not saying anything.”

Which meant everything had already been said.

My husband was right.