In which what was lost is found (and something else is lost)

This week has flown by. My friend and neighbor (and Kristin Bell doppelganger) Stephanie had some time off from work this week so we got to hang out together during the day which was a rare treat.

Besides being a lot of fun to be around and being adored by my children, Stephanie has more can-do energy in her little finger than most people have in their entire body. After spending time with her for a few days magically my kitchen cabinets are covered in several more coats of paint, all the junk in my car has been cleaned out, AND I am back in possession of the little diamond band that N gave me for our 10th anniversary last year!

I lost the ring last October and as the months went by without it turning up I became resigned to it being gone. But it turns out that all this time it had been tucked under some junk in my car (of which, admittedly, there was a lot). When Stephanie pulled it out of the car and showed it to me we had a full on Oprah-"everyone-gets-a-car!"-type hugging and shrieking fit. I was ELATED. So elated in fact that I'm not bummed about losing my drivers license any more.

Yes, that's right--the reason we were cleaning out my car was that I had put my drivers license in my pocket when we were running errands and (predictably) lost it. (I know, I know--it's okay, you can groan out loud, goodness knows I have.) Apparently pockets and I have a deep-seated antipathy. But let's not focus on that; I have my ring back!

After all, this time I've totally learned my lesson.

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