Long, long ago, before the boy was born, I was packaging meat.  I’d just purchased the giant thing of ground beef from Costco and didn’t want to accidently pack my wedding ring into it, so I put it in my pocket.  And promptly forgot about it.  Until I found the engagement ring portion in the dryer.  We searched high and low for the other half.  Even pulled the dryer away from the wall and checked the vents.

Flash forward to 2009.  The dryer started to sound like it had rocks in it and, as it turns out, a new friend of mine used to be an appliance repair man.  After he’d taken it apart, he jokingly asked if he could keep all the loose change, and I, also jokingly, said sure, but if he came across a ring that I’d like that back.

He said, “Oh.  Like this one?”

None the worse for wear!

I may have squealed.  I’m not sure.  I’m not of a squealing nature.  But there may have been squealing.

So then I asked.

“Is there a camera in there too?”