In Bengali weddings, there is a tradition for the bride and groom and their peers to spend the night of the wedding together, joking around, playing games, eating, singing songs, whatever the hell you want – it’s called bhashur ghar (literally, “the room of the groom’s elder brother”). (The bride and groom aren’t supposed to be left alone until the third night after the wedding.) To honour that tradition, and just because it’s fun, we planned a similar thing. We rented a hotel room and all our friends were invited to hang out until the morning, when whoever was left would go for breakfast at Bob Evans.
So, anyway, after the reception, we went back to my parents’ house to change into comfortable clothes, and then off to the hotel to party. Sometime during the night, I discovered that my wedding ring was gone! D’oh! I looked all over the place, crawling around the hotel room, looking under beds, under the air conditioning unit. No dice. My bride was pissed, really pissed. She didn’t speak to me for several hours after that.
The next morning, we went back to my parents’ house for another ceremony, in which the bride is welcomed into the family. I went upstairs, and, lo, my wedding ring is on the floor in the room where I had changed clothes the previous night, dead in the middle of the carpet. I had never noticed that it had fallen off my finger.
Since that day, my wedding ring has been locked in our safe-deposit box in the bank.
Yup. I lost my wedding ring at the wedding reception.
It seems that my wife and I ordered our rings several sizes too big. It slipped off my finger at some point during the reception, and I didn’t even realize it. It took about an hour (with maybe 50 guests recruited into the search) for it to turn up.
We eventually got new, properly-fitting rings, but if you look closely at our honeymoon photos, our rings are on our middle fingers.
My godmother and her husband, from Illinois, bought some land on island in land of the lakes, way up in Canada, after their wedding. They took a belated honeymoon up there and my godmother was picking blueberries and when she got back to the cabin, realized her wedding ring had fallen off. She looked frantically, but couldn’t find it. Her husband bought her a new one.
Fast forward about 40 years later. Godmother and her husband are at their cabin in Canada, along with their son and daughter and two of the grandkids and the granddaughter comes in from picking blueberries and says, “look what I found grandma!”
Not as good as the other stories, but I lost my engagement ring during a game of ‘spin-the-ring’ while we waited for the comedians to come on stage at the comedy club. After a quick look round I found it though.
I again lost the ring at the comedy club during a pretend bitch-fight with a friend. The ring is slightly too big and it flew off my finger. Again it was found.
I have a habit of losing rings. So far my engagement ring has managed to survive.
I have oddly shaped fingers. So if I’m going to wear a ring above another ring, it has to be almost a size larger.
My engagement ring was sized to fit on the bottom of my ring finger. When I put the wedding ring on and tried to put the engagement ring above it, the engagement ring wouldn’t fit. So I moved it to my pinky finger until I could get it resized.
After the reception, I changed from my bridal gown into a less formal dress. I was getting ready to leave the synagogue, when I looked down at my hand and realized that my engagement ring was gone.
I went back into the bride’s room at the nearest thing I could manage to a run (I was wearing high heels, which I normally don’t). The maid of honor, one of the bridesmaids, and I pulled the dress out of the dress bag we’d wrestled it into, and shook everything out. I was having visions of never finding the ring, the insurance company saying “sorry, it’s not covered because you lost it away from home”, and Mr. Neville being extremely upset at me. Fortunately, the maid of honor found the ring in the dress bag.
When I was a kid, my mother would go on occasional cleaning sprees and throw away things she didn’t realize I wanted to keep. She would tell me that if I cared about something, I should put it someplace safe.
Years later, when I happened to notice my first grey hair (yeah, I’m a guy, so?) I sealed it in an envelope and wrote the date on it. It was just for a lark; I was not genuinely attached to it. I put it in the family strongbox with all the important papers. It was safe from fires, floods, hurricanes, you name it.
When I was a kid I wanted one of those magnetic draw-and-erase boards (I can’t remember the name…they were blue). Badly. Finally, for Christmas I got one. I had fun with it, drawing and erasing, and then I would put it back in the box when I was done. After the tree came down, it took me a little longer to find the box to put it back. Finally I did find it though, in the basement by the stairs.
I wasn’t quite old enough to realise that in the basement by the stairs is where we put trash until garbage day. Oops. Mom threw it out unknowing.
I once put a really cool bracelet back into my Christmas stocking after pulling it out, and my parents packed it away with all the Christmas stuff. I was majorly bummed…until next Christmas, when I received the bracelet again! Woohoo!
I think we have the same mother. My mum did this ALL THE TIME. It used to drive me insane. I’m back home for the summer and she’s already done it again. You’d think that after 20 years of “don’t touch my stuff” it would sink in.
My mom accidentally donated all of my brother’s summer clothes to the mission several years ago. It was a combination of clearing out dresser in prep for move/putting clothes from drawers in bag too close to clothes to be donated. We ragged on her for years about that one.
My mom is under strict orders not to touch anything when she visits. At least once a week she suggests (over the telephone) what I should throw out next.
I was cleaning the bathroom one morning, and straightening up all of the mess that the Hallgirls had made in the bathrooom. (You know, hair stuff, teeth stuff, skin stuff, etc.) Sitting on the bathroom sink was a toothbrush, a hair tie and two odd little containers, about the size of pill bottles. I opened them and saw liquid, so I dumped the liquid down the drain and threw all the misc. stuff in a basket for the Hallgirls.
Hallgirl 1’s contact lenses were soaking in an enzime solution in the little containers, which were dumped down the drain.
I might have, if I didn’t like my mom so much. It was probably in 1986 or so, and my brother and I had stopped playing with them, so rather than save them because they’d be worth something someday … I’m going to cry again.
[hijack]You’ve got a shoulder right here, sweets.
My brother had just about all the old original Star Wars and a ton of He-Man figures. I had G.I. Joe & his pals (the small ones, not the huge originals), She-Ra and Golden Girls.
My sorry stepfather sold them all for pocket money and told us they had “accidentally” been thrown out while cleaning out storage. He did that with a lot of our collectable crap, come to find out. Original The Little Mermaid Disney video with penis?
Gone.
[/hijack]
I came thisclose to losing my engagement ring while doing touristy stuff in Old St. Augustine. My sister and I had one of those old time photos done, with us as Old Western saloon hussies in costumes that included opera gloves. I put my ring on over the gloves so it would be in the picture. We took the pics, changed, looked around a couple of more places and then got in the car to drive back home.
As soon as I got in the car I realized it was missing. My heart jumped into my mouth and I thought I was never going to see it again, but I dashed off back to the photo place praying they’d still be open.
They were and right in the middle of another shoot when I ran in the store and bee-lined it straight to the dressing rooms. Sure enough there it was sitting in the exact middle of the dressing room floor, standing up on its side. :smack:
