This Morning: A Tragi-Comedy

It was about 6:12 this morning. I finally dragged myself out of bed and made it into the bathroom.  My cat Anya met me for our usual morning cuddle jam session. Realizing that I was running behind, I got the shower running, groggily brushed my teeth, and stepped into the steamy water. I poured out the yellow John Frieda shampoo into my hand and started working it through my hair. As my fingers laced together as I made a nice lather, I began to appreciate how smooth they felt. And how engagement-ring-free they felt. Realizing that my ring was no longer on my finger, I cut the water, soap in hair, and began digging through the drain. I overturned everything in the shower. I flapped the shower curtains, I even raked through my hair, for chrissakes. It was gone. I leapt from the shower, threw open the door, billows of steam framing my tragic exit. I ran into the bedroom (my hair still frothing with lather), and screamed, "Please tell me this is a joke!!! Please!!!" Obviously a bit puzzled at being rudely awoken by a dripping wet crazy woman at a terribly indecent hour, Mike jolted out of bed andbegan looking for my missing ring. "We have it insured," he says. "THAT'S NOT THE POINT!!!" I squawk. Just as I was thinking of smashing open the pipe work in the shower, Mike appears in the bathroom doorway, a grin amongst his sleepy bed-head. Holding it encapsulated like a wounded bird, he presents the ring. It was in the bed. Why it came off if my hand, I do not know.  I think I appreciated this presentation of the ring almost as much as the original. Overwhelmed with gratitude and relief, I ended my shower drain excavation, stood up in the shower (hair still a cloud of poofy shampoo lather), and began bawling. The dripping wet, shampoo-haired crazy woman who had jolted her fiancé out of bed before 7am is now standing in the turned off shower blubbering. Not exactly my proudest moment. But, I have my ring, and a wonderful man who would put up with all of this without a second thought.