Friday, October 09, 2009
The case of the not-so-missing ring...
Trevor called me in a panic this morning because he looked down and realized he wasn’t wearing his wedding ring. He rarely takes the thing off – even when he sleeps – so the missing ring was cause for concern.
Luckily, I knew exactly where it was: on MY bedside table.
Last night, our bed broke. No, no – get your head OUT of the gutter. It wasn’t anything like that. It was much more reminiscent of THIS STORY, except it happened in the middle of the night for apparently no reason.
Obviously, the thump and violently shifting mattress woke us both up, and we climbed out of bed and proceeded to fix the problem. This usually involves me lifting the mattress while Trevor replaces the fallen slat. He took off his ring so it wouldn’t get scratched and placed it on my bedside table. After the slat was back in place, we climbed into bed and forgot all about the ring. Again, nothing dirty. The bed just happened to break right before last night’s thunderstorm arrived. Our house is on a hill next to a lake, and I swear storms are more intense at our new address. Lightening repeatedly strikes the water, and the resulting thunder is deafening. Until the leading edge passes, I find sleep to be near impossible - especially with Gypsy Kitty nervously shaking next to my side of the bed. Poor thing hates thunder.
Anyway, in all the middle-of-the-night drama, Trevor just plain forgot to put the ring back on his finger.
Of course, I’d be lying if I told you that his panic over the missing ring didn’t make me smile. Nothing sinister. I just love that he likes wearing it so much.
Ah, newly wedded bliss! Feel free to gag now.