That time I lost my wedding ring… and found it in a bag of cough drops

A few weeks back, my friends and I met up at a bar in Arlington for a night of tater tots and fun. I had a few beverages and eventually came home (public transit FTW!). Interestingly enough, I kept playing with my wedding ring while at the bar. I was in a bit of a sad mood and was missing Mac more than normal. I get home around 2 am, take off my ring, and get ready for bed.

Around 5 am, Purrburger comes romping through my room (and closet) crying for breakfast. I do my standard yell at her to shut it because she gets breakfast at 7 am routine and drift back to sleep. When I actually wake up, I get ready like normal then go to put on my ring. It’s not there. Strange. I give a quick rummage through my nightstand and look on the floor because I’ve knocked my ring off my nightstand several times before. I make a mental note to look again when I get home from work.

Later that night, I start looking again. I decide to check in the bathroom (even in the trash) in the off chance I left it there. No dice. I borrow a flashlight from my mother-in-law and look a lot more intently. I pull out the drawers of my nightstand, dump them out, and can’t find anything. I look all around the floor and even in my bed frame and closet. I contemplate the possibility that the cat managed to eat it.

Panic and stress set it. How horrible of a wife am I to (1) lose my wedding ring and (2) lose it while my husband’s deployed.

My mother-in-law emptied my bathroom trash, so I go out to the dumpster, find the bag, and dump it in the driveway to have a second look. I change my sheets and move the mattress in case it came off while I was laying in bed. No ring. Desperate times call for desperate measures: I start sifting through cat poop daily. No ring.

I’m now coming to the realization [in a ghetto tone] it gone. Now, I’m thinking of how I’m going to tell my deployed husband I lost my wedding ring (in my defense, he lost his once then found it a few hours later). I look for it everyday. No ring.

Then, it happens. Two weeks later, I grab my dry-erase markers out of my nightstand to update my weekly schedule on Sunday night (like I do every week. This is the third time since my ring disappeared). The act of my grabbing my markers knocks over a bag of cough drops. I look down. My ring is sitting on the bottom of my nightstand. I was so happy I could have cried. Instead, I start laughing hysterically (literally, I felt on the verge of a nervous breakdown). I tell Mac the whole ordeal on Skype later that night. He is not amused.

Have any of y’all lost your rings? Where did you find them?