It Was In My Pants


I play with my wedding ring a lot. I have two methods of playing with the ring. In the two-handed method, I take the ring off my left ringfinger with my right hand, then put it on my right ringfinger, then back to the left ringfinger, etc., like Vladimir and Estragon sharing a hat. In the one-handed version, I use my left thumb and pinky to slip the ring off my left ringfinger, flip it over, slide it back down, and then slide it back up. This latter method is more conducive to work, and also to dropping my ring.

Just now, while working, I was one-handing the ring and I dropped it onto my chair. I felt around for it in my bumular area and couldn't find it. So, I stood up. It wasn't on the chair. I hadn't heard a "plunk" sound, which would indicate that it had fallen on the floor, but I checked the floor anyway. Not there. I checked my pockets, my shirtsleeves, and the cuffs of my pants. No luck. The ring had disappeared like a major world landmark in a David Copperfield special. I spent a great deal of time looking under my desk, around my desk, even recruiting the help of another first-year who agreed to assist me out of sheer amusement. The ring was nowhere to be found.

Realizing that I was about to spend the rest of the day looking at every square inch of my office until I found my ring, I decided to take a bathroom break. Once I was in the men's room, I undid my pants and, just for good measure, gave them a little shake. The ring came tumbling out onto the floor. I had apparently tucked it into my waistband while I was feeling around for it on the chair. Mystery solved.

I should probably stop playing with my ring.


Your prediction was correct: I am both amused and irritated. While the idea of you looking silly in front of co-workers and finding things in your pants is quite satisfying, another part of my brain is horrifyingly calculating the cost of a replacement when the day comes that your pants don't yield a fruitful harvest. Or something.

If he ever does lose it you could get him a finger tatoo could say "married" on top, and what ever adj. you wanted to brand him with for losing the ring on the bottom...

John has nearly shipped his wedding ring across the country on several occasions, since due to our recent loss of weight his ring is huge - and titanium, so it cannot be resized.

Ahh, you young and still slender people who can actually get your rings off.

What surprises middle-age has in store for you ...

Meli, take heart:

JP lost his wedding ring for SIX WEEKS only one month after we got married. We had a feeling it was somewhere in our room, so we didn't want to buy another one, but right about as we were contemplating cutting open the vaccuum cleaner bag to make sure we hadn't sucked it up, JP puts on a pair of pants that had been hanging in the closet, and there was the ring! In his pants pocket. Apparently he hadn't worn them for about 6 weeks...

And then, just last week, JP couldn't find his ring when he left the house in the morning, but as he was walking near a storm grate by my mom's house, he reached into his pocket to get his keys and the ring came flying out and fell into the storm drain!

He had to run upstairs to my mom's, grab a wire hanger, and fish the damn thing out! (We were lucky it didn't go all the way down to the bay...)

So don't feel so bad. On the floor in the office/hidden in the pants for an hour or so is way better than in the storm drain or lost for 6 weeks at a time.... :)

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This page contains a single entry by hb published on May 2, 2006 12:44 PM.

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