But I'm not irresponsible. Except for the time I accidentally threw my debit card in the trash. Or the time I drove away with my iPhone on the roof of my car. Or the time I left my purse in my seat at a basketball game (In my defense, I was drunk for the last one....wait, does that make it worse?)
So maybe I am irresponsible. That's why it was really no surprise when I looked down at my hand last Sunday afternoon and saw this:
Sheer panic. Then sheer relief. We had a lifetime warranty. Back to dread: the place where Rob bought it closed last year. A return to relief: we have insurance on it. But that's if the whole ring is lost or stolen. It was an emotional roller coaster made worse by a 3-year-old who claimed "I found it" four different times only to come up empty-handed all four times. (Let's hope she never plays BINGO!)
We searched our floor, but figured it could be anywhere as I'd been to church and a basketball game earlier that day (and remembered to take my purse with me this time thankyouverymuch.) I thought it may have fallen out when I carried Bernie Jr. back to the car.
|30 pounds of dead weight!|
Basically, I resigned myself to the fact it was probably long gone.
For some weird reason, I never cried, which is very unlike a girl who tears up at the end of every Modern Family episode. It may have been because the baby was sick and I didn't have the energy or maybe I was secretly happy for once it wasn't my fault something had gone missing (see above).
That diamond is special to me, for reasons I plan to blog about later this month. The thought of replacing it sickened me, so I did what any normal person would do: ignored the situation. I didn't call our insurance company. I didn't research how to get it replaced. I did a whole lotta nothing.
Fast forward to Tuesday (yes, pretend my life is on DVR) and there I was playing with the babe, when Howie brought me a toy. Seriously, Howie...cancha see I'm busy. But I did as I always do for the pup who doesn't get enough attention anymore, I indulged him. I grabbed the stuffed turtle and threw it. Then I looked down and there it was, gleaming at me from the carpet. My diamond. Howie had pointed me right to it.
I screamed in delight and woke up my husband, who was equally excited, but more so because he wouldn't have to buy a replacement. The whole family did the happy dance. Yes, Howie too. Rob commented how small the diamond looked when it wasn't in the ring. I pleaded the fifth ;)
It's quite possible we may have found it when we vacuumed, but judging by how often we do that, Rob probably would've already bought a replacement (which I'm sure would've been twice the size, right honey?) and we'd be nearing retirement.
Instead, thanks to Howie, I get to wear the ring, diamond and all, that I've cherished for the last 8 years. And that is why I owe my dog two thousand bucks or so. So far, he hasn't been hassling me for the cash. Hopefully he's just happy with his $50 haircut! And the fact that I haven't manage to leave him at a basketball game just yet.
|Howie's "You owe me" face|