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The Leprechauns in My House (Or, How I Lost my Wedding Ring)

May 28, 2013

**Mother-in-Law Spoiler Alert: I found it!**

Yesterday was a day for housework– I got rid of all the extra boxes in the garage, tidied the living room, and took care of the kitchen that has been sadly neglected during these last few weeks while I’ve been finishing up with school.

After doing the dishes I took off my rings because I wanted to dry them, and I tucked them in the pocket of my jeans. I do this often, by the way, because for whatever reason the feeling of wet metal wrapped around my knuckles drives me CRAZY. About a half an hour later I went to put them back on, which is when my hands derped and my wedding band went flying.

Naturally I am sentimental about this piece of jewelry, for many reasons. One, it belonged to C’s great-grandmother, Elsie. Two, it was given to me by C’s mom. I can still remember the day I got it, when she and my soon-to-be sister in law and my mother and I sat around my dining room table. I slipped on the ring and it just felt right. It wasn’t just the fact that it fit (which was delightful), but the way that it looked with my engagement ring, and the delicate engraving on the inside of the band. Since the day C put it on my finger and we said our vows it has not left my hand unless it was absolutely necessary.

I heard the thump of it landing on fabric somewhere, but I didn’t see it right away as I looked around at my feet. I searched the couches and under some bags but couldn’t find it. No big deal. I decided I wouldn’t panic yet– when C woke up he could help me lift up the couches, where it was surely hiding.

A few hours later he got up, and came down to help me look. We. Looked. Everywhere. Under the couches. Under the bags. IN the bags. In shoes, boots, the cat carrier, my rolled up jeans, and the crack where the carpet meets the wall. Nothing. I was perplexed to say the least. Our living room is a) not that big and b) the cleanest room in the house, just in case anyone stops by. This is when I started to cry. “Good job,” I berated myself… “Elsie had it for six decades… it only took me 2 years to lose it.” I may have spent awhile pouting on the porch as I tried to figure out what on earth could have happened to it.

C tried to be soothing, but really, what could he have said? He’s too smart to tell me “it’s not a big deal”, so he mostly just said nothing and rubbed my back. I tried not to think too much about it, but I put a moratorium on vacuuming until we found it.

Around 8 o’clock C decided to take a quick shower before bed, and I went back to the living room for one more scan. I rechecked all of the places I had looked before, and when I still turned up nothing I lay down on the floor and stared at the fridge. This was how C found me about 10 minutes later, and my poor husband just kissed me on the forehead and said, “Maybe we should give up for now and look again in the morning.” I nodded and he helped me to my feet. He hugged me close, and as I pulled away I was going to say something to him but before I could C got a crazy look on his face and just pointed at a spot behind me.

I turned and there, on the floor where I had been lying, was my wedding band. Stunned, I sat on the edge of the couch and just stared at it. “Has that been there this whole time?” C shook his head ‘no’, which made me feel better. And then we both started laughing. I picked up the ring and put it back where it belong.

The logical thing, of course, is to assume that the ring had landed somewhere on my person and then fallen back out onto the carpet while I was lying there. The other option is that I have leprechauns. You know… the ones who steal socks, and hide keys, and create science experiments in the fridge? They took my ring to play a trick on me and took pity when they saw how sad I was. Either way, I am delighted to have my ring back, and I hope my leprechauns are happy. 

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. May 29, 2013 11:35

    Fair warning Amanda – the Irish aren’t the only ones who have “Leprechauns/Little People” to contend with. The Cherokee people (in your current neck of the woods) have the “Yunwi Tsunsdi” (means…wait for it….”Little People”).

    But watch out: you still won’t be safe when you move to Hawaii, ’cause there you have to watch out for the “Menehune”, which means…….oh, I remember now…..”Little People”….

    The world is strange, scary, familiar, and comforting all at the same time, isn’t it?

    Love you! (and glad the ring found you again…),
    Mama
    xoxox

    Like

  2. May 29, 2013 11:54

    Ha! I love it Mama… everything I’ve been reading about Hawai’i has warned me that the menehune are taken seriously by the locals and are not to be trifled with. Consider this a test run?

    Like

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