Happy Birthday, Mark!
As we were having breakfast this morning, one of the girls asked, “Mrs. Sommerer, why don’t you have a pretty ring?” (I assumed she was not insulting my actual ring, but was curious as to why I didn’t have a diamond.) “I just wanted a plain ring,” I answered. The children then proceeded to tell me bout their mom’s fancy rings. “My mom’s ring is pretty.”
Hmmmmm…. maybe they were insulting my ring.
When Lloyd and I got engaged it was kind of a secret. He proposed kind of spur-of-the-moment (whole other story), but it was November and we wanted to tell our families in person first, and that would have to wait until Christmas. I told him that I didn’t want a ring for two reasons:
First, I am very cheap and thought that it wouldn’t be a good use of money. (Not that he was hurting – detasseling had made him wealthy.)
Second, and most importantly, I am clumsy. A hard gemstone on my hand would have guaranteed repeated scratches on my face. No thanks.
After we told our families, our college choir went on tour for New Year’s break. We thought it would be funny to get a fake ring, so we went to WalMart and bought a HUGE fake diamond ring. As we announced the big news, I loved watching the reaction of people’s faces – a bewildered yet kind smile that said, “That poor, sweet, dippy girl – she thinks it’s real.”
It was especially funny when we went to the beach and after making a sand castle I said, “Hey! My ring is all scratched up!” You could feel the tension as friends wondered, “Should we tell her?”
Hee hee hee.
Oh! I almost forgot the rest of the story! We were on another choir tour in Germany and realized that since we were going to get married in three months we should probably buy rings. We went to a shop where the salesperson spoke English and picked ours out. My original ring is just the little band in the middle…. Y’know, I’m going to save this story for another time. It will need a drawing.