I have a pair of earrings that have defied all odds.
Little white-gold hoops with some little diamond chips in them. Simple. And perfect for me. A birthday present from my parents some years ago.
Once I lost one. It was NOWHERE, so I put its now-solo mate away, mourning the loss.
Two years later (I am NOT kidding), I was putting on makeup in my bathroom and dropped my brush on the floor.
When I bent down to pick it up, I saw my earring. Weird, I thought, because I had put that one earring away when the mate was lost.
I picked it up and put it back -- and found it was already there. Yes, after two years, I had found the missing earring on my bathroom floor.
Fast forward to our tripto Hawaii this summer and swimming with dolphins. One of the rules was that you had to take off all jewelry. Dolphins are notoriously curious, and anything glittery was subject to being poked at by the water creatures.
So I removed my rings, my watch, my necklace -- and my earrings -- before getting in the water to do this:
Then I put them all back on.
As Wonderhubby and I walked back through the park, I realized that I only was wearing one earring.
We scoured the area, looking in the shower drains (we had swum with dolphins, don't forget -- we were a little fishy) and finally retracing our steps back to the lagoonic scene of the crime.
Where eagle-eyed Wonderhubby found the errant earring.
I was weak with relief at its second coming.
And back to the hotel we went, where, by necessity, I put my treasured earrings in a little pouch thingy. (For reasons too complex to explain, I had to wear different earrings that night and the rest of the vacation.)
When it came time to put those earrings back on, the pouchy thing with the treasured earrings ...
We ripped apart the hotel room and our luggage. But alas. They were really and truly gone this time. Stolen by hotel personnel, we suspect, but we can't prove that.
I mourned. And wore no earrings at all.
At the risk of making a long story even longer, I went to a Hanukkah craft-fair-boutique thing (my vocabulary improves with every sentence, eh?) on my lunch hour about a month later and found an identical pair for a reasonable sum.
I circled the jeweler for about 20 minutes before picking up my cell and calling Wonderhubby at work.
"I found my birthday present from you," I told him, explaining my discovery. "Can I buy them?"
He roared with laughter over the phone, but agreed that having me buy the earrings was the best way to handle it. The jeweler, who thought the two of us were hilarious, wrapped my earrings in a box with a bow and put it in a blue gift bag, similar to Tiffany blue.
Which I handed to Wonderhubby that night and he put away, until my birthday a week later.
"Oh, my, what a surprise!" I giggled when he handed me my gift.
But I was happy happy happy to put in my new/old earrings.
Fast forward again about two weeks -- to last weekend, when I went shopping at the mall with the Roo-girl. (And never ever ever let me do that again on the weekend before Christmas, ok? Glad we got that settled.)
We actually had a lovely day, although crowds give me the squirrelies, and when we got back in the car, I (as is my habit) reached up to touch my ear lobes.
To make sure the earrings were still there.
Can you say FUH-REAK OUT????
Because there was no way in hell that I would have been able to retrace my steps during a three-hour shopping trip in the mallest-of-malls.
So we went home.
And I stressed. How was I going to tell Wonderhubby that I already had lost one of my new/old earrings? It had been barely two weeks!!
I stressed in silence for several days (meanwhile going earring-less for the duration).
Until Christmas morning.
"I found your earring, by the way," Wonderhubby announced, as we were puttering around.
My earring? He didn't even know it was lost. Did he?
"On the bathroom floor."
And so the story comes full circle.
(And let me just tell you how many times a day my fingers fondle my earlobes, just to be sure. Miracles only happen so many times, ya know!)
All my kids were together last night for the first night of Hanukkah. Those of you who know what happens when all my kids are in one room can figure that this will lead to a birthday-like post sometime this week.
But for now, I am basking in the glow that is the return of my prodigal son.
Meghan at A Mom Two Boys is having a special day today -- a bloggy holiday card exchange.
Check it out -- the idea is that we all post our holiday card on our blog. That way, says Meghan, we can all "send" our cards to all our bloggy friend, all the while saving "on postage, (not having to) stalking everyone for their addresses AND we’d be totally GREEN by NOT using extra paper to print more cards." She even has a Mr. Linky just for that purpose.
I mean, seriously, I'd love to send each and every bloggy friend my family's holiday card. My biggest difficulty with that, however, is not the postage or the address thing.
It's that ... um ... we don't send out cards.
I guess we COULD send out cards. We just don't.
So an opportunity to play with Picnik and make something? Well, that always speaks loudly to me.
And so, with no further ado, I present to you our official (first and only) holiday card:
I'm a working wife and mom, married 9 years to the Wonderhubby. My five kids (yes five) are 31 (Drummer Man), 28 (Drama King), 22 (Z-man), 22 (J-Bear) and (gulp) 18 (the Roo-girl). What was I thinking? Oh yeah, I was thinking that I love my life, my kids, my world. Right now, I'm dealing with the end of high school and the start of college years (eek!), new drivers, rebellious twentysomethings, my emptying nest (cry) and letting go. Email me at jsongbird4(at)aol.com