Taking heed
The first couple of times I lost my wedding ring, it just sort of fell off my finger and to the floor. Once in the garage, once in the house, I retrieved it hastily, and took no heed. Then, I lost it outside, doing car wash work. It was gone. I searched and searched, and came up empty. How do you tell your wife that you lost your wedding ring? But I did, and she looked, and nada. The next day (note, I slept on not having my wedding ring), we were staging to take Enzo to daycare, and there on the driveway, on the passenger side of the truck, Linda found my ring. "Go get it sized," she directed me. Of course, I did not. It's a seasonal thing. Ambient temps. Sometimes my rings are loose, sometimes they're tight. I'll just live with it. Sure. Months later, I took all my old tax stuff to Staples to recycle it. Thirteen pounds, sixteen dollars. Ok, stuff some in the slot, then more, then more, until it's all in the locked bin. So I left and drove to scout out a r...