Ringy Ding Ding

My wedding and engagement rings have become such an unconscious part of me that I sometimes don't think about them until I've forgotten to put them on.  On these very rare occasions, I'll look down at my left hand and receive a little shock; an intake of air, a crap I forgot to put on my wedding ring!  It's almost like a, crap I forgot to shut the iron off! only it won't make me turn back if I'm already running late.  (Although, who the hell am I kidding...I don't iron.) 

I don't like to say my wedding rings have morphed into some sort of snuggly security blanket; though there's a very good chance they have.  But if two blingy, sparkly platinum rings can remind me of the Scorpio I love in the middle of a busy workday, I say there are worse security blankies out there! 

I forgot to put on my rings today.  I was with my parents and we were running very late for a Christening party in New Hampshire.  "SHIT!"  I exclaimed, the minute I realized I'd forgotten to slip on my rings. 

For you see, this was no ordinary day.  It wasn't just the fact that Hubby had once again stayed home in lieu of accompanying me to a family function.  It wasn't just the fact that there would be people there whom I hadn't seen in a while who may wonder where my other half was.  It wasn't JUST the fact that I'd banged a heavy ceramic platter smack dab into my nose while peering into a cabinet at work last Monday and now had a slightly swollen nose bearing a tiny red mark and the whisper of a bruise just waiting to reveal itself.

No, it wasn't simply one of these things that made me regret my absentmindedness.  It was ALL OF THEM.

My overactive imagination is such that I sometimes conjure up things I suspect other people must be thinking about me and then begin to actively believe them.  And so, in summation: I had a bruised nose, wasn't wearing my wedding rings and my husband was mysteriously missing from the Christening of my first cousin's child.  Awesome!

In truth, I'd told Hubby not to come so he could try and catch up on his vast mountain of schoolwork.  Still, I understood people would probably inquire as to his whereabouts, even if only out of politeness.  One girl I hadn't seen for some time approached with her husband and the first words out of her well-meaning mouth were: "So...what's NEW?" 

Did I imagine that she glanced down at my bare, naked left hand? 

"Oh, you know...same old same old!  We left New York...moved to Boston.  My HUSBAND and I, we moved to Boston.  He's not here with me today, he's in...Boston!"

And he DIDN'T give me this funky red mark on my nose, I SWEAR!!

Afterwards, as I looked up at my Uncle Dan and relayed the grisly specifics of the above interaction, he looked at me lovingly and said, "Oh, Barbara Streisand nose..."

What the??!!  "Not really the best thing to say to me right now, uncle!"  I spat, a shriek threatening to escape me, before quietly asking, "You don't really think I have a Barbara Streisand nose...do you?"

"What?  Nah!  No...not really."

Note to self: Stop banging your goddamn face into things.  Never forget to wear your wedding rings.  Force your husband to attend family functions.  There!  That outta do it!  xoxo

Comments

[Jen]

Sah, I always give Scott free passes to miss my more crazier family, especially those who ask him freaking computer questions - I mean he's off the clock so I feel your pain! Hope the face heals quickly!

[The Odd Broad]

Glad I'm not the only one!! :)