Thursday, June 19, 2014

Lost things

Best buddies
I was vacuuming the house the other day. It was a miracle, believe me. It needs to happen more often than it does, but that is beside the point. Whilst I was doing this most mundane of chores, an oft treasured memory flitted into the front of my mind.

This memory heavily involves my brother Alan. When we were small children, Alan and I were the best of friends. Nigh on inseparable, you might say. And also needless to say, we were frequently known to borrow each others' things.

It looked exactly like this.
Now, it happened that one day my darling brother borrowed a ring of mine, because quite obviously, it was a magic ring. Now, this ring was very dear to me due to it's origins. My Grandma Lin had a gorgeous amethyst ring that she always wore, and as most little girls would be, I was fascinated by it. It was beautiful, all soft purple and sparkling. My Grandpa had given it to her, if my memory serves me correctly, and I asked him if one day he would get me a beautiful ring like hers. He told me that he would see what he could do, and the next time that he visited, he brought me a beautiful ruby ring. My grandparents had moved houses and found it in their new home, and thought it would be a good gift for a little girl who had asked so pleasantly for something sparkly. And thus, I had a magnificent and magical red ruby ring. One that was utterly irresistible for any little fingers that could find it.

It was this ring that Alan borrowed on that day. And when I came looking for it, the ring had been tragically misplaced. Lost. Hopelessly. After searching with all of my little schoolgirl might, I went to bed bereft. I thought about this ring for years, and would occasionally look for it, hoping against hope that it might turn up.

Someone's treasure chest key too? Bint.
And as I ran the vacuum in my daughter's room, and sucked up something large enough to ping in the vacuum but small enough that I hadn't seen it, I finally realized what had likely happened to that ring. Chances are good that my mom vacuumed it up. And it took my twenty years to realize this. Don't judge, I was expecting it to show back up. It was magical, after all. The only other option is that it went to were all lost things are: Pixie Hollow. And that damned Tinkerbell refuses to give it back.

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