Just yesterday I left my purse in a store. The entire thing. Sitting on the floor. Wide open because why not? And this was after I forgot to pack my swimsuit for a vacation TO THE BEACH.
I tell you this so you know who you're dealing with as you read the following account. This way the ending may not be much of a surprise.
So there I was, washing my face in the sink after a long day that included what seemed like a 300-hour drive to the lake with our children in the backseat for vacation. I glanced up in the mirror of the fish-themed bathroom and noticed it immediately. One of my diamond earrings was missing!
Shit! Shit! Shitshitshit!
Did it fall down the sink? No.
Did I take one out and set it on the counter already? Nope.
Did it drop on the floor somehow? Nada.
OK, well then it could have fallen out in the car, at the gas station 90 miles away, in the expansive yard of the home where we were staying or somewhere in the two-story, four-bedroom house.Gee, that narrows it down.
I thought of shouting a battle cry to commence the search for mommy's diamond, similar to what I did when the one fell out of my wedding ring. Just as I envisioned an all out "Honey I Shrunk the Kids" style search (the one where they're dangling from the clothesline --love that movie) I remembered my dog was back home barking home his brains out at doggy daycare and my children can't ever find one of their 206 pairs of shoes.
I could ask my husband to help in the search, but he was embarking on a 26.2 mile run for the first time the next day and if he knew I'd lost (another) diamond, it would give him way too much time to contemplate divorce.
So. It was up to me to keep it under wraps. I pretended to forget that it was lost. Easy for me to do. But over the course of the next day and a half, I was constantly looking down. If I noticed a speck of anything on the carpet, grass, sandy beach, etc. I was down on my hands and knees examining it and probably giving everyone who observed me cause to reflect on why I was allowed out of the house.
Finally, on Sunday, I couldn't take it anymore and decided to fess up and enlist the help of my spouse, who by the way did complete that marathon and contemplated a separation approximately zero times thanks to my brilliant plan. He was on a runner's high, so I'm not sure he quite got the gravity of the situation/didn't realize I'd want new ones if one half of my current set was lost forever.
When I lost the diamond out of my ring, I didn't feel guilty at all because it truly wasn't my fault. This time, however, I knew it probably was. My husband had given these earring to me at a surprise party he threw for my 30th birthday. He even annoyingly gushed in his speech that I deserved them. Gag!
We arrived home on Sunday and just like every road trip, I ran into the house claiming to need to relieve myself, when in reality I just hate unloading the car. I did my business, paused to take a look at my naked ears in the mirror and then looked at the counter. And there it was. Pretty little diamond earring number two sitting on the counter all "Hi, mom!"
I HAD NEVER PUT THE SECOND EARRING IN MY EAR ON FRIDAY MORNING. I HAD BEEN A PIRATE ALLLL DAY LONG AND NO ONE, NO ONE! HAD NOTICED. IS NO ONE SCARED OF PIRATES ANYMORE?! INCLUDING MYSELF!
This story ends happily, I think, but the next time I lose something, I'm just going to assume it's on my lap, in the bottom of my purse (that's hopefully not at the store) or that given enough time, my dog will find it for me.
I don't have a good photo for this post, but the selfie I took when my husband was about to finish the marathon is probably close to what my face looked like to that diamond sitting on my bathroom counter.