Lost

Several years ago now, someone in the machine that rules the laws of soccer decreed that no jewelry was to be worn whilst playing the game in the interest of player safety. It was the first occasion that I’d had to take off my wedding ring (other than those early days when I had to relieve the burning – no, I jest). When we started playing touch football, it had to come off for that too.

On very rare occasion I would take it off at other times. It would appear that on one of those days recently, I didn’t put it back on. And now I am left, sitting here, racking my brain as to exactly where I was when I took it off, because I can’t bloody find it.

Going home to tell your wife, “I think I’ve lost my wedding ring,” isn’t one of those things that you look forward to in a day. I had to do it of course, because were she to find it lying around the house, it would look even worse. Honesty in these matters is essential. Of course, its probably a good thing that I haven’t been out to the pub or anything lately.

Caroline has told me in the past that her father has lost his wedding ring on more than one occasion. I believe he’s on his third. At least he had a decent excuse … like losing it whilst concreting in the back yard. Even if he can’t get it, he knows where it is. I didn’t even have a good reason for taking it off and as a consequence, don’t remember where I was and don’t know where to look for the thing.

Its all a bit vexing really.

As a friend said … “Don’t start coming home late from the office!”