I...um...lost my wedding ring

I have been tempted to blog several times over the span of my most recent hiatus but have decided to faithfully abide by the motto: “If you can’t blog anything nice, don’t blog anything at all.  Unless it’s about the Miami Heat then, by all means, blog away.”

(That being said, if you wish to hear my opinion on the humanities in general, the Edward Snowden leaks, The Manning verdict, Reza Aslan’s interview on Fox/his book that I haven't and likely won't read/the academic study of religion, or anything related to the coup in Egypt, let me know if you find yourself in my neck of the woods and we can have a beverage or seven and a likely colorful, certainly off-the-record chat.)

This blog post, however, hits closer to home.  Last week, I lost my wedding ring.   The conversation went something like this:

Abbey: Where is your wedding ring?

Tommy: No clue.

Abbey: When did you last see it?

Tommy: A couple days ago.

Tommy’s thoughts: This happens all the time, usually I take it off when I’m eating a sandwich somewhere weird – it will turn up, it always does.

Abbey: Where did you see it last?

Tommy: Ummm, wherever the last place I took it off was.

Abbey: …

Tommy’s thoughts: It will turn up, always does, even if I don’t spend all day looking, but since this time you found out that I misplaced it,

Tommy: I’ll look for it.

After checking all of the normal places I typically remove my ring, I started trying to recall various places I may have taken it off – as we are in a new house with new counters we have yet to really develop an organizational system for most of our things (my wedding ring included) nor do I have a constant place where I eat sandwiches.  After looking everywhere (in coffee mugs and under gnomes, behind/in/around books, in the car, in every pocket of every article of clothing I had unpacked, etc.) I gave up for the day and continued unpacking.  Abbey was still rattled that evening.

Tommy: It will show up.

Abbey: I just need to come to terms with the fact that it’s gone and we’ll probably find it in a random box in 20 years.  We’ve thrown away so much paper from so many boxes, it might even be gone forever.  I’m sad now, but I’ll get over it.

Tommy’s thoughts: Damn it.

The next morning, I continue looking for the ring.  No dice.  I’ve literally [on a side note, the dictionary definition of “literally” has changed and it literally can be used just – literally – for emphasis instead of its former, more literal meaning…literally] looked everywhere that I could.  Abbey was upstairs with Vivian and I picked up a pile of clothes from the middle of the entranceway.  The ring was there.  THE RING WAS ON THE GROUND!!!!  I AM THE GREATEST HUSBAND EVER I FOUND IT!!!! (It is entirely peripheral to the point that I was the one that lost it in the first place, shut up).

I march upstairs with the ring held high.

Abbey: You found it?!

Tommy: I found it.

Abbey: Where was it?!

Tommy: Remember that pile of clothes I said I’d move two days ago?

Abbey: …

Tommy: It was under that.

Abbey: …

Tommy: Well...at least I found it...

Abbey: You need to find a permanent place to put your ring from now on or never take it off – I don’t care if you are eating a sandwich in the laundry room.

Tommy’s thoughts: I bet I can find something super tacky on Amazon for really cheap.

Tommy: I promise I will find a place to always leave my ring whenever I take it off.

I have named her Kiaya after Kiaya Ufgood (imdb says I spelled the name right, the youtube clip does not), Willow’s wife in the movie Willow - aka the greatest cultural object of the 1980s.  She is now a permanent fixture on our counter and faithful guardian of my ring.  Thanks Amazon!!

Thanks for reading