Wedding Ring found

I'm happy to announce to all of you who have shared in my lament over my lost wedding ring that Natasha is no longer naked. My wedding ring has been found. And my husband and I are back to being on speaking terms (kidding).

Losing this ring revealed a lot about both Paul and I. 

For one, I'm not a panic-type person. Never have been, never will be. I've always seemed to have an "It is what it is" mentality and kind of take things calmly, even when I should, perhaps, freak out. When I realized my wedding ring was, in fact, lost.....I didn't panic. I was devastated about it for obvious reasons. There is very little in this world that I value materially but this ring is one of them. Sure, it can be replaced, but it's not the same as having the ring on your finger from the day of your wedding.

Paul, on the other hand....well, he doesn't panic, but he doesn't relax. He would be looking high and low at most opportunities he had, even after hours of both of us scouring the carpet and cupboards and drawers and closets. We plugged drains to check later when we had more time and took garbage out to the garage to fumble through when we could get dirty. When I would come home, I wanted to sit down and sulk a little bit. He wanted to upturn the bedroom and keep looking. 

And keep looking, he did. After I had fallen asleep downstairs on a couch, I was awoken by a creepy shadow standing over me. I opened my eyes and saw Paul just standing there, ring in his hand that was covered in muck and spent coffee grounds while the other hand held the very last of what was at the bottom of the trash bag. My ring, still unbeknownst to me how it got there, was buried deep in the bottom of the garbage that we had put out in the garage to rummage through when we could. 

It says a lot about the two of us. 

He does not give up. I do love that about him. And my ring fits even better than it did before. Now, to figure out a way to not have this happen again....