Impeccable Timing

Wednesday night I made homemade turkey meatballs for dinner. I burnt the tarnation out of those suckers and ended up even having to toss the pan I "sauteed" them in. But that's not the reason for me telling you about those meatballs. No, I'm telling you so you'll know why I had taken my wedding rings off and placed them on the counter. Have you ever tried to scrub raw ground turkey out of those tiny little prongs that keep the bling bling from falling out? Me neither, but I can't imagine it would be pretty. And if you missed a chunk, your hand would start to smell all kinds of funky in a day or so. Easier just to take the rings off, right? See, there's always logic behind my actions--twisted though it may be.

I have a vague recollection of the children standing up at the counter making a racket while I was trying to pry the blackened spheres out of the pan, but I can't say I gave the matter much thought at the time. After my shower this morning, I went to put my rings on, but they weren't by my bathroom sink where I typically leave them every night. So I went down to the kitchen to get them off of the counter, but they weren't there either. I sat and scratched my head for a minute before the obvious set in: my daughter had absconded off with my wedding rings!

If you happen to have a two year old, then you will know that the little terrors are forever picking things up and then putting them back down in the most random of places. Luckily, I knew for a fact that she didn't have them when we went outside last night, so that narrowed my search down to the main floor. But, even with my rather largish fingers, I felt like I was looking for a needle in a haystack.

I searched:

1. Under the bench cushions
2. Under the table
3. In all the kitchen drawers
   
4. Through the trash from last night (eggshells and bunny litter. EW!)
5. Hands and knees on the carpet.
6. In the air conditioning vent
   
7. Pockets from yesterday's clothes
8. Under piles of mail
9. Inside books
10. In the couch cushions (should have vacuumed while I was there. Next time)
11. In her dolly stroller
12. Under candles
13. In the toilet paper dispenser
14. In the plants
15. In the dog dish
16. In the bread crumb container
17. In the refrigerator
    

It was around this time that the little cherubs arrived home with their father. I went straight for the older, wiser one.

Mama: Chase, did you see your sister play with Mama's rings yesterday?
Chase: Yep
Mama: Did you see where she put them?
Chase: Right here.

He points to the counter where they were supposed to be.

Mama: Not anymore. Did she take them somewhere else?
Chase: I'll show you!

And off he flies on his scooter toward another counter, then the living room, then the dining room. I finally wizened up to his little game when we arrived back at our original starting point. The kid was taking me on a wild goose chase, and loving every minute of it. I, on the other hand, was less than amused.

It was at this point that I began to accept that the rings might be lost for good. I began to mull over the possibility of whether toddler calamities would be covered by our insurance company.

Still, I couldn't give up without at least trying to question the accused no matter how unlikely it was that I would get anything useful from a girl whose favorite word is "NO!".


Mama: Where did you put Mama's rings Amaya?
Amaya: What?
Mama: My rings?

Andy holds up his hand to show her his ring. She points to it and laughs.

Amaya: Ring!
Andy: Yes, that's Daddy's ring. Where did you put Mama's rings?
Amaya: Here!

She gets up and points to the dress-up box. Though doubtful, I pull the box out and tip it over. And wouldn't you know it, but there in amongst the sunglasses, tiaras and bangles, I spied  two shiny, platinum bands. I nearly fell over from the shock of it all.

Mama: You mean I could have avoided the maddening, all-day search that included digging through  yesterday's trash?
Andy: Well, it is a logical place to find them, isn't it?
Mama: Right. It makes sense that this would be the exact moment she would choose to start putting away her toys.

And the moral of this story boys and girls: Cooking at home cost me one ruined dinner, one pan, and one day's time looking for stolen jewels. Learn from my mistakes. Save yourself the trouble and just order Chinese.