It’s confession time.
A couple weeks ago I kinda, well, sort of, like in a sense, um....
....lost my wedding ring.
It’s confession time. A couple weeks ago I kinda, well, sort of, like in a sense, um.... ....lost my wedding ring. I know approximately where it must be. I’m pretty sure I put it in my pants pocket while I was washing dishes, and just forgot to take it out. Then, that night, when I folded up my pants and hung them on a hanger, the ring must have fallen out. You’d think it would be easy to find somewhere on the closet floor, but I haven’t seen it yet. It would help if I could remember what day I took off the ring, and what pants I was wearing that day. I’ve been through the pockets of every pair of pants I own and it’s not there, so it must have fallen out. At least, that’s the excuse I’m telling myself. The alternative is that it’s in a completely unexpected location I can’t possibly anticipate or remember. Anyway, the few people I’ve mentioned my loss to have generally reacted in one of two ways. Women tend to wonder why I’m not running around in a blind panic, tearing the house apart and screaming, “My precioussss! I’ve lostes my precioussss! FIlthy Bagginses!” (I added that last part myself.) Men, as a group, cringe and wonder how long I’ve been sleeping on the couch. Luckily, the one person in the world whose opinion matters — my wife — has the same attitude I do: “Eh, it’ll turn up.” Did I marry the right person, or what? My insurance company sure thinks so. So do the bail bond people, probably. Fortunately for me, she’s lost her wedding ring at least as often as I have. (No, this isn’t the first time for either of us.) She takes her ring off when she’s gardening, when she’s washing dishes, washing floors, etc. Every time she loses her ring, it always turns up a few hours or days later. And it if doesn’t.... It doesn’t necessarily mean anything. It’s only a ring. What it represents hasn’t changed. . . . . . Back in the early 1970s, I was the first Cub Scout on my block to get one of the new merit badges in ecology. It was around the time of the first Earth Day, and “ecology” was still kind of a new concept for many people. To this day, I still turn off lights when I leave a room, still turn off the faucet when I’m brushing my teeth but not using the water, still sort the recycling from the garbage. Whenever I hear anyone talk about the importance of “formative years” when kids are growing up, I just think of me still turning off the lights when I leave the room.