More personal than underwear

A few days ago, my wife asked to borrow my iPhone. She was going on a short roadtrip and wasn’t exactly sure of the directions. We had printed out her MapQuest directions, but she thought the iPhone GPS would come in handy if she got in a pinch.

I balked.

Now, understand, I was pretty much planning on staying home and doing nothing particularly interesting. I can’t really offer any especially brilliant thing I was planning to actually do with my phone for the few hours she would be gone.

Still, I balked.

This is a person with whom I share bites of food, bed space and the occasional head cold. We are pretty close.

Still, I couldn’t quite hand the iPhone over.

There’s something especially personal for me about my phone. I’m not sure I totally understand the nature of the relationship.

Am I sick? Am I a bad husband? Or is lending my iPhone somewhat akin to lending someone my underwear?

Your comments welcome.

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