Throwing Stones (or how I almost became un-engaged)

As I was getting ready to leave work last Friday a friend suggested that I have a “glass or three of wine” over the weekend. Now I’m not sure if by “weekend” he meant the ENTIRE weekend or just that evening but… Being the good friend I am I took his words to heart and when the invitation for happy hour to celebrate a co-worker’s birthday arrived I promptly accepted.

AND I had my three glasses of wine. Or that’s as many as I’ll admit to anyway now that I know my mom reads this here blog. Hi Mom! Love you!

Ahem.

Let’s just say many, many hours passed and general good times were had by the birthday boy and all in attendance. There was laughing, there were stories told… And you RF’s of Tiffy KNOW how I get when I tell stories when there is wine involved. I should have been Italian I tell you what. Arms go flailing and there are re-enactments, sometimes I use voices. I do LOVE telling a good story.

I just realized that at this point in the story we need to have a little tangent. Hi, welcome to my disjointed blogging!

So when TheBoy and I started looking at rings several months ago every where we went we had my finger sized. We heard pretty much the same thing at every store. I was either a 4.75 or a 5 but I should go with a slightly larger size since a) I wanted a thicker band and b) once you get the engagement ring on with the wedding band the rings feel tighter together. Fair enough. So when it came time for TheBoy to order my ring he ordered it in a size 5. He proposed, I cried, we laughed, and I have been happily wearing that ring ever since.

Well except the ring was a little looser than I thought it ought to be. I mean it slipped quite easily over my knuckle. Also? It spins. Like all the way around my finger so that I am either wearing the stone between my ring finger and pinky (which is SO comfortable) or the stone is pointing in at my palm and I have nothing but a plain band showing on the outside. The later of those two things is very uncomfortable if you happen to sleep with your palm cupping your cheek. I’m just saying… People might tease you for having a square indent on your cheek.

So, after conferring with the interweb and many girlfriends I took myself and my loose, spinning ring over to the jeweler across the street from my office last week to see what could be done. I originally thought I would just have those bumps put in the bottom of the ring like Michele had in hers to stop the spinning. The lady there called them speed bumps which made me laugh. So the first thing she did was size the ring. I informed her it was a size 5, which she smiled at and sized my ring anyway. Guess what? Size 5.25. Actually she said it was BETWEEN a size 5.25 and a 5.5. Either way definitely not a 5. This was our first problem.

Clearly sensing that something was wrong here, or that I had no freaking idea what I was doing, the woman next decided she should measure my finger. You know, just to see. Y’all. She whipped out her little ring keychain looking thing and started slipping rings on and off my fingers like a maniac (clearly not her first time!) finally stopping trying to decide between two sizes. The tighter of the two was a size 4 and the looser a 4.25. I actually pulled that little key ring thing out of her hand and squinted at the sizes to make sure myself. HOW COULD THIS BE? Anyway, even if you guys are not math whizzes you can figure out that a size 5.25+ ring does not fit well on a size 4.25- finger. No wonder that damn thing was spinning.

So the speed bumps were clearly not the answer, the ring would need to be re-sized. The jeweler across the street quoted me a price but mentioned that if my fiancé (!) wanted to take it back to where he bought it they would probably re-size it for free. As soon as I got back to the office I called TheBoy and informed him of the ginormousness of the ring and the teeniness of my fingers, to which he was surprised about the ring but not the fingers. And yes, he said, the place he bought the ring did say they would re-size it for free. Of course being the typical girl I am, I wanted to keep the ring just a wee bit longer so I told him we’d send it in “later” since it hadn’t really been THAT much of a problem.

So fast forward to last Friday night and my co-workers birthday and my glass or three of wine. And the stories. I was standing out on the patio talking to a friend about… something. Something that required hand gestures clearly, when all of a sudden I felt a strange lightness on my hand. OMG y’all the ring had gone flying! I immediately stopped talking and started peering into the dark shadowy puddles in the direction that I thought the ring must have gone praying to see something sparkly. Talk about insta-sober! About 42 hours later (or maybe 15 seconds, who knows) the guy I had been speaking with tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around and there he is, HOLDING MY RING!

Y’all! I snatched that thing up so fast you’d have thought it was the last piece of food on a buffet line. No sooner had the words “Thank GOD, Please don’t tell TheBoy, he’ll KILL ME!” come out of my mouth then up pops that darn boy. Man if he doesn’t have the world’s worst timing. I may or may not have mentioned my less than stellar fibbing abilities before on this here blog? Well let’s just say they are NOT improved by wine. So of course I had to fumble through the whole story, trying to laugh it off.

“Ha Ha, I was just standing here and the ring FLEW off, but then co-worker found it over there by that empty keg, isn’t that HYSTERICAL?!?!? Honey??”

Ahem.

The ring went back to the jeweler to be sized first thing Monday morning.