Anyone who knows me well probably is aware the whole “absent-minded professor” vibe I give off isn’t really an act. I’ve been known to “misplace” things from time to time, though, to be fair, when you “misplace” things as often as I do, you really don’t like using the word “lose”. The missing items usually turn up again. Eventually.
There is a story I tell that is, quite sadly, true, of the time I lost my high school class ring. It had gone missing for more than a year and, using my charm and gift of persuasion, convinced my mother to purchase me a new one. After much begging and pleading, I was the proud owner of a replacement ring.
But, like I said before, things in my life rarely stay “misplaced” forever. A few months later, the original ring turned up in the small, 5th pocket of my jeans (It is important to note I lived with my dad and did all my own laundry. Had my mom been in charge of this duty, I imagine the ring would have reappeared in rather short order).
Fast forward a quarter century to a recent weekend where my wife was in the midst of decluttering and finding a permanent home for our holiday gifts. Much to my surprise, she discovered a gift card for my favorite pizza place, one that serves a nice deep-dish pie not easy to find in Southern California.
Where was it, you might ask? It was actually buried beneath the tissue in my Christmas stocking. And if it had not been for my wife and her love for organization and minimalism, who knows when, or if, I would have found said gift.
If only the same could be said about my class rings. The first one was, like I said, found.
The second one has been, well…misplaced.