Aw heck, he still loves me...

I promised you a story, so a story is just what you’re going to get. This story takes place on September 7th, Labor Day-we were tackling all those fun jobs that we didn’t get done during the week (laundry, grocery shopping, etc.) I just finished putting the groceries away and I washed my hands in the kitchen sink. I had my engagement ring on and my ruby ring that wraps around my engagement ring (this is what I had requested instead of a regular wedding band), and I was wearing my mother’s ring on the other hand. (These are usually all I wear when it comes to jewelry because they mean the most to me.) Well I hate when I have water trapped under my rings, so I usually take them all off and put them in one of several ring boxes I have scattered around the house, but for some reason I just tucked them in my pants pocket thinking that since I was heading to my bedroom with some laundry, I would just put them away in there. I never made it to my bedroom…My kids started fighting so I broke up the quarrel, sent them both outside, then I headed to the couch for about 20 minutes of R and R-I forgot all about the precious cargo I had tucked away in my pants pocket.

The evening came all to quickly with dinner preparations, showers for the kids, getting ready for school the next day, and our evening story time and there wasn’t any time to think of anything else. Then after the kids finally got to bed, I grabbed my usual seat in front of the computer to check on my favorite blogs and tweet giveaways, still unaware of three very special rings taking up residence in my pants pocket.

I decided to go to bed early that night, but I got caught up in bloggyland, and it was after 10 when I finally got to the bathroom to get ready for bed. I heard a tinkle of metal as I was changing out of my pants, and startled, I reached my fingers into my right pants pocket and pulled out two rings-my engagement ring and my mother’s ring. The pocket is one of those half-pocket deals and I couldn’t put my whole hand in, so I jabbed some more with a few of my fingers but I couldn’t find anything.

I was getting a little worried by now and I was trying to remember if I had actually worn all three rings-maybe I had left the wrap in my jewelry box? I tiptoed into my bedroom because my husband had turned in about twenty minutes earlier, and I started rummaging through my box-no ring. Now I was getting frantic-when had I put those rings in my pocket? I remembered my nap earlier that day and I ran for the sofa-I started stripping all the cushions off and began digging my hands down into the box springs but still no ring. I then grabbed a flashlight and looked under, in, and around the sofa, even pulling it out from the wall as far as I could, but still nothing.

I started to quiver-could I have lost it in the bathroom? I headed back to the bathroom with my flashlight and getting down on my hands and knees I searched through the towel basket, near the garbage can (and in the garbage can), then the floor, and then I stopped and stared at the toilet. Oh no! I couldn’t have…could I?

I ran to the computer and started looking up how to retrieve a ring that gets flushed down the toilet, and there was some hope-if the ring was heavy enough, it just might have gotten caught in the toilet itself, so that was the first place to look. I headed back to my bedroom and touched my husband’s arm and he woke with a start-he might have been sleeping a little more soundly than I thought. There was no easy way to say it so I just came right out and said, "I think I flushed my wedding ring down the toilet." I can’t remember my husband’s exact words, but I do know that the mood was anything but cheery. (By this time it was nearly 11:30 and I had been searching for the ring for over an hour-did I mention that I get up at 5:30 AM and my husband gets up at 6:20 AM?)

Searching a toilet is no easy task-my husband had to disconnect it from the floor, sacrificing the wax seal and bolts that hold it in place, and we had to empty out quite a bit of very murky water that was a color I wish I could forget. And since I was the suspected "dropper" I had to reach my hand up inside the toilet to see if the ring was somewhere inside-let’s just say I wanted to boil my hand and forearm after I was done! But sadly there was no ring, and both of us knew that if the ring had made it out of the toilet, I would never see it again.


My husband wasn’t convinced that I flushed the ring so he too took the flashlight and searched the couch, the kitchen, and then got on his hands and knees in the bathroom. Then he picked up my pants, those dreaded pants without real pockets, and he started feeling around-I assured him that the ring wasn’t there because I searched those pants at least three times. Just then my husband starts poking at the pockets seam. "What’s this?" and he holds up MY RING! The dang thing got pushed down into a space in the pockets seam probably from all my poking, and I started to cry, or maybe wail is the appropriate term, and I grabbed my ring and my husband!

All this time I had been telling myself that we could just get another ring-maybe a plain gold band this time that I could wear without my engagement ring-and everything would be all right. But I got that ring on my wedding day, in a church, in front of 125 people-it was more than just a ring, it was a symbol and a memory that I didn’t want to be without.

The toilet was back together and leaking (of course) by about 12:30 Tuesday morning, and my husband’s emotional response to finding the ring was a mixture of relief and annoyance. In fact, he had to replace the wax ring, the bolts, and the flusher unit, and tighten things up several times over the course of a week to stop the leaking. He and I have also relayed this story to the people we work with-to the women my husband is a hero, but the men all think he was crazy to be messing with a toilet at midnight. My husband is still a little annoyed about the whole thing, but he smiles when he brings it up. And me, well, my knight and shinning armor may not have rode in on a white horse that night, but he saved the day when he chose to straddle a white toilet for the one he loved. I love you honey…
(Oh, and by the way, these pictures are not of my husband, but I thought it was hilarious that this plumber is smiling as he works on a toilet. I wonder what my husband will think?)