The lost ring and the best party ever

7 09 2009

On Monday morning, Mark was late for work. Running out the door, he was frantically looking for his wedding ring. He could not remember taking it off when we went out to dinner or later at home when he was hanging curtains in our basement apartment. He eventually went to the office, although he felt almost naked without the ring he had worn daily for nearly eight years.

As the week passed, he searched everywhere: in the house and at work, in his messenger bag and with his bike gear – all to no avail. The ring seemed to have disappeared.

On Saturday morning, when Micah snuggled up in bed, I asked him if he had seen Daddy’s wedding ring. Micah loves playing with his Daddy’s ring.


“Micah, did you take Daddy’s ring off his hand?”


“Where did you put the ring?”

“In a speshial spot.”

Oh no. I knew what that meant. Last year, Micah had hid our car keys in a special spot that we did not discover for months – and after spending hundreds of dollars on new keys for the car. Micah’s special spot could be anywhere.

We looked everywhere we could think to look. On Saturday afternoon, losing hope, we went to E.E. Robbins where I had purchased Mark’s wedding ring eight years ago. We looked up how much it would cost to replace the ring. Apparently we should have invested in platinum, as the price of the ring had more than doubled since 2001. 

On Sunday morning, however, we woke up to great news. Asher was standing next to the bed: “Daddy, I found your ring!” It had been hidden under my bedside table. We found the special spot. Everyone was excited and we decided to have a party to celebrate finding the ring. Since Asher found the ring, we let him pick what to do for the party.

After dinner, we all put on pajamas and then ate ice cream – neopolitan and cookies and cream. Asher and Micah each had a candy bracelet. The boys practiced their arm farts, as this is an important part of any boy party. Then the boys called grandpa Did Dad to share the good news that the ring was back on Daddy’s hand. While Asher was talking to his grandpa, he said: 

“I have a sound I want you to hear: pfffrt!” The sound of a fart was followed by much giggling.

We then went upstairs to pretend to be wolves. We snuggled in our pretend den and howled at the pretend moon. Outside the sound of a firetruck siren sounded like a real wolf. Asher proclaimed this celebration the best party ever.



One response

9 09 2009

What a beautiful and fun story. Sara, I think you should seriously consider writing children’s books right now, while you are immersed in your three sons’ wonderful world. You have a true talent …

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