Maybe it’s one of My Honey’s people

Good Lord, what an evening.

The Bandit lost one of the lenses of his glasses.  So, understandably, I had to kill him. Who had under two months in the poll?

This weekend I had a real mother of a migraine. It’s still hanging in there actually. After crawling all over the floor looking for that damn lens, I can feel the headache throbing over on the right side of my skull. My Honey and I lifted the sofa and searched everywhere in the living room, but we didn’t find it.

One good thing happened. It started out bad, though, so hang in there till the end.

This weekend I was doing a mountain of laundry. It was so big it reminded me of a laundry monster from Sesame Street. One with no sense of humor and filthy language. I swapped a load into the dryer and we went off to dinner. When we got back the dryer was making a horrendous clanking noise – like someone had dropped a handful of rocks in with the clothes. With the Bandit around, one never knows. I unloaded the dry clothes into a basket and discovered with mounting horror that it was my wedding rings and a ring from my paternal grandmother making all that noise. What I didn’t find was my anniversary ring and my great grandmother’s wedding ring.

It wasn’t long before I found the anniversary band in with the clothes in the basket, but still no sign of my grandma’s ring. I tried to remain calm. I mean no disrespect to my husband whom I love and respect dearly, but of all the rings I could lose, that one is the worst. It’s totally irreplaceable. It’s a thin, unassuming band and there are a million just like it out in the world. The difference is on the inside of my grandmother’s band there is an engraving that reads: Bessie Lee May 31, 1917. My grandmother wore it every day of the 74 years that she lived after my grandfather, Lee, gave it to her. Then I’ve worn it everyday since I got it 15 years ago or so. It has been worn every single day for almost 100 years thus the engraving is very difficult to read but I know it’s there.  It made me sick that I might never find it.

I swallowed down the panic and called My Honey. Mr Calm began disassembling the washing machine and I all but crawled into the dryer. We investigated the lint trap and I tilted the machines and shown a flashlight under both of them. I moved every single thing in the laundry room and then crawled around all over the floor in my bedroom where the laundry basket sits.

Apparently, the rings were in my pocket from when I’d done the dishes then stripped off the shorts and shoved them in the washer.  My take away from this experience, of course, is that I should never do the dishes or the laundry ever again.

Cut to this morning. The Bandit had an accident in bed last night so I stripped the sheets from his bed and tossed them in the washer this morning.  When I came home from work, I went to switch them to the dryer. I opened the door to the dryer and, plop, the ring landed right on top of my foot.

Whew! But still. I think it was pretty mean of my grandmother to mess with me like that.  I wonder which of my ancestors is holding onto my little boys glasses.