He's your man, not your child!

All over the building dozens of soft, well manicured hands were raised in the air.
"One question at a time, please." I said to the anxious throng of women.
"Why do men guard their cell phones like it's the cure for cancer?" said one.
"Mine never puts his down. He even takes it into the bathroom." said another.
Inwardly, I laughed as I sipped my vintage 1945 Mouton-Rothschild
 and mentally pressed the Easy button.
"Would the majority of you report similar incidents with your significant others?" I asked.
The resounding "yes" filled the auditorium.
"The answer is simple. Its none of your business and he doesn't want you snooping through his stuff."
I ducked the imaginary hand as the entire female audience attempted to slap me.
"If he's my man, it is my business!' someone yelled on the front row.
"You tell him, girlfriend!" rained down from the balcony.
The level of estrogen was filled to the rim and running over. I raised my hand and immediately the cacophony fell silent.
"He is your man not your child. Commitment doesn't mean containment."
"If he doesn't have anything to hide he should be able to leave his phone with me."
I decided to pose a revealing question to my assembly.
"By show of hands, if your partner left his phone with you for a few hours, how many of you beautiful, independent, successful, intelligent women would rummage through it?"
Three quarters of the room lifted their arm.... GOTCHA!
"When you surrender to the temptation to snoop, you have just announced your insecurity to the universe and it will faithfully give you your desire. You cannot control what he does, just be the best you, at all times, and watch things start to fall into place."
While the audience was contemplating my statement, the stage went black and my chair slowly started its descend beneath the platform.
"Hopefully someone benefitted from that." I said to my driver as we walked down the backstage corridor towards the awaiting limousine.
"Someone always does, sir. Where to next?" she asked while looking at me through the rearview mirror.
"To the airport...I have to be in Maui early tomorrow morning."
I loosened my silk necktie and leaned back into the soft leather seat.
"Very well, sir."
We pulled away from the curb and drove off into the moonlight.
Point to Ponder: No trust, no relationship. leave the snooping to the professionals.