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So the other night I had a dream that I was playing with my ring, twirling it around on my finger (really nothing out of the norm—I actually play with my ring all the time), and when I woke up from the dream I reached for my ring to do the very same thing only to find it wasn’t there.
Cue sheer panic!
Image via Zazzle / Posted by lilramscheer01
I had gone to bed with my ring on, I was sure of it. So at 4:30 AM I darted out of bed, flipped on all the lights, and began searching. I checked the sheets of my bed, the floor, under the bed. I ran to the bathroom to make sure I hadn’t left it on the counter by accident, then back to my room for some more searching, then frantically back to the bathroom again—this is where the crying started. I was freaking out. How could I have lost my ring in my sleep?! Mr. Ticket was going to be so mad. (He probably wouldn’t have been; he would have helped me look for it in the morning, but my sleepy hysteria was not being rational.) What would I wear on our wedding day?! I continued freaking out and looking everywhere for my ring. The tears were getting more serious. Then I stopped for a minute and decided to read my Bible (it helps calm me down) attempting to regain my composure, then started the hunt again. This time I was more successful. (God took mercy on my frazzled soul.) I found my ring a good four feet away from my bed under a chair.
How the heck did it end up there? I slipped the ring back onto my finger with a vengeance and vowed to never remove it again (again, sleepy hysteria talking) and sadly didn’t even have a chance to go back to sleep before my alarm went off reminding me I needed to get ready for boot camp. This incident shook me up enough to mention it to Sister/MOH Ticket; she laughed at me then looked at my ring and exclaimed, “Miss Ticket, this ring is WAY too big! You need to get it resized!” I knew it was a LITTLE loose, but I didn’t think it was that bad.
A couple of days later I decided to take my ring back to Jared (hooray for free sizing for life!) and see what they said. Mr. Ticket and I had placed bets on how much my finger had shrunk since my weight loss; he said he thought I would be a size 5, and I thought he was crazy! There was no way my finger had shrunk a size and a half…a half size, MAYBE. But we would see.
As the jeweler handed me their fitting tool, she started off by telling me I currently had a 6.5 ring and then handed me the size 6 to see how it fit. Still too big, she declared, and then she handed me the 5.5…nope, still too big. So we tried the size 5—wouldn’t you know it, that one fit. That Mr. Ticket is smarter than he looks. So I sadly left my ring overnight (I actually had to go home and put on another ring because being without a ring on that finger now leaves me feeling totally naked) and waited for it to be properly sized.
When I went back to pick it up the next day, it was a little strange. I was so used to a loose-fitting ring, it seemed like this new one didn’t fit. But a day later I’m already used to it. And the best part: it doesn’t fall off while I sleep anymore!
Did you have to get your ring resized before your wedding? Did it take a mildly traumatic experience to make you realize it was necessary?
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