Carry On Baggage


Yesterday, I received a barrage of panicked emails from Justin; he couldn’t find his college ring anywhere.  All day, I followed Justin’s quest around the house as he tore through every cushion, drawer, and stray sock in the house.  Eventually, I suggested that he wait until Robbie got home and ask if he knew where it was.  After all, lately he’s been playing pirate and a ring seems like a pretty good treasure.  My only concern was that it was in the litter box because, you know, you bury treasure in the sand.

Justin was uncertain of the success of any of this, convinced the ring was gone forever.  However, dutiful husband that he is, Justin asked Robbie if he had seen the ring when they came home.  I believe it went a little something like this:

“Rob, son, have you seen Daddy’s ring?”

“QiQi room.”

“Daddy’s ring, Rob.  Do you know where it is?”

“QiQi room.”

At this point, Robbie is halfway up the stairs, irritated that Justin didn’t understand the direction the first time.  Justin, having nothing to lose, followed Robbie upstairs.  Robbie ran into his room, knelt down on the floor, and reached under his train table.  He pulled out his Fisher-Price airplane, removed Goofy from the inside, rummaged around, and eventually produced Justin’s college ring.  Robbie handed Justin the ring, saying, “See, Jus?  Daddy ring,” and walked back downstairs.


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