|Very like my mom's ring - google image|
My daughter, daughter-in-law and myself are blessed to be the owners of beautiful antique rings, inherited from two grannies and a great aunt. Last week, my daughter-in-law was distraught because her large stone was suddenly missing from its setting. She eventually found it nestled in the folds of her child's car seat, knocked out while she was hauling the unwieldy things out of my car and into hers. Lo and behold, three days later, my own pretty sapphire jumped out of its moorings when I bumped it on our microwave. Luckily, it fell into my hand. After relating these stories to my daughter, she confessed a potential horror story of her own: about two months ago, she was driving through a dodgy area of town, took off her ring and pushed it down the panel behind the driving seat, something she was in the habit of doing in these places. That day, she forgot to retrieve it and the next morning her husband took her car in 'to have new tyres'. Imagine her shock when he returned that afternoon with a smart new car for her, having traded hers in. Instead of delighted tears of joy, he was presented with a tirade of accusations, "why didn't you TELL me???" and heartfelt sobs of loss. I am relieved to say the story had a happy ending: the new owner was contacted and the ring happily retrieved. They say things happen in threes, so we should have a quiet time this week. Meanwhile, I am hesitant to hand mine in to get fixed: what's to say they won't substitute a worthless piece of glass?