Mr Nobody

Does he live in your house? He does in mine. I tried to change my mobile phone service provider this week. Should have been a simple thing but oh no not for me. I wanted to keep the same number as it is the one everybody knows who wants to contact me. I phoned O2 who said it would all be done by 6 o'clock on Tuesday. In the mean time I kept my old sim in just in case anyone tried to phone.
6 o'clock Tuesday, put new sim in and it's not working, phone O2 who say there has been a mix up and it will definitely happen by 6 o'clock Wednesday.
6 o'clock Wednesday old sim card stops working so I go to put new O2 sim card in.
It's not where I left it and where it has been for 3 days.
Thanks to Mr Nobody!
By the way the missing passport turned up last week. I found it in the draw I searched several times. It was inside my diary.
My mum used to say when I was little that if things went missing or something happened that couldn't be explained it was Mr Nobody and she was right.

I remembered this poem about him.

I know a funny little man,
As quiet as a mouse,
Who does the mischief that is done
In everybody's house!
There's no one ever sees his face,
And yet we all agree
That every plate we break was cracked
By Mr. Nobody
`Tis he who always tears our books,
Who leaves the door ajar,
He pulls the buttons from our shirts,
And scatters pine afar;
That squeaking door will always squeak,
For, prithee, don't you see,
We leave the oiling to be done
By Mr. Nobody
The finger marked upon the door
By none of us are made;
We never leave the blind unclosed,
To let the curtains fade.
The ink we never spill; the boots
That lying round you see are not our boots;
They all belong to Mr. Nobody.