this is one of those stories that i will probably never live down. i’ve never told it on here, because i can’t quite believe that my husband hasn’t gotten to everyone in the world to make sure they know it. he’s actually pretty close to hitting that goal, so…valid point by me.
that said, i can’t really blame him for wanting to share my idiocy with everyone. this was a doozy.
it all started on a cold december night. my family has a tradition of going to dinner and a show every year for our christmas outing. we had just finished a delicious dinner at meritage in downtown st. paul (highly recommend), and had taken a few adorable photos in rice park before heading to the theater (theatre?), because Mister Man and i were fairly newly engaged and feeling lovey dovey.
finding our seats was uneventful, we all joked and yucked it up as we sat down to wait for rodgers’ and hammerstein’s “cinderella” to begin. because my ring was a new addition to my life, and i wasn’t totally used to having it on my hand all the time, i started to play with it, twisting it around my finger with my other hand, and sliding it up and down.
the ring in question.
i must have gotten a little excited when the lights went down and flailed my hands a bit. (can you blame me? it’s a great musical, i totally know every single word. and i do tend towards the flail-y side of things.) i must have made just the
right wrong motion with my hands, because as the theatre (theater?) darkened completely, i felt my beautiful engagement ring fly off my finger. to some unknown place in front of me. or behind me. or beside me. or possibly all the way to the stage. i had literally no idea which direction it had gone. and promptly broke into a cold-stress-sweat.
my very first thought was: “quick! stand up and yell fire! or stop the play! that way they’ll turn the lights on and we can have everyone help look for the ring!” my second, much more logical thought was: “don’t cry. maybe it’s in your lap. better tell Mister Man what happened and he can help.” i think that when i whispered to my fiance what i had just done, he thought i was telling a really unfunny joke at first. when he realized i wasn’t, he looked a little bit ill. *gulp*
we proceeded to spend the entirety of the first act feeling ourselves up and quietly trying to look around the floor to hopefully catch a glimpse of the sparkler. we had zero luck. the news had passed down the row to my whole family at this point, so my brother even tried shining his cell phone light around. it was most definitely not on the ground immediately surrounding us. i started to have a very physical reaction to the stress(sweating, shaking, giggling uncontrollably, feeling like i was going to pass out), and was counting down the seconds until intermission.
as soon as the lights came up, i jumped on the ladies in front of us and asked them to please not move, i had just thrown my engagement ring at them and i needed to find it. at least, i think i said please. i may have blacked out for a minute or three. and praise the Lord, and Heaven, and St. Anthony, and sweet baby Jesus, that ring was sitting smack dab underneath one of those ladies’ seats. i nearly cried when they handed it to me. i may have almost given one of them a hug but i feel like that would have made them uncomfortable. my family breathed a huge sigh of relief/started to laugh at how dumb i am. my now-husband did not think it was as funny and excused himself to, as he put it, “go throw up in the restroom.”
the moral of this story is: insure your engagement ring and don’t play with your jewelry if you’re a flailer.
clumsy flailer out!