My Precious!

This should be the day that we put the "For Sale" sign out in the front of our house. It's taken a tad longer to get everything done that we wanted to, but God is good and I'm not worried about us selling it. Worst case scenario, we hang on to it and have to commute downtown, but I really don't think that'll happen. He's taken care of everything else to this point, why would He stop now?

Anyway, I know this post started out sounding profound, but I'm about ready to go junior high on y'all, so be prepared. Getting all these things ready forced me to run my body ragged. I have bruises and cuts all over, but nothing that really bothered me. Until Saturday, that is. There was a little black speck on the palm side of my ring finger that I couldn't identify. I thought it was splinter so I sorta dug at it but found nothing. I tried to ignore it, but it started swelling up and throbbing. Something was wrong.

Note to reader: I'm about to get a tad descriptive here, so if you're the queasy type, you might want to skip forward to the next paragraph. I realized that there was some kind of liquid in my finger that needed to be released, so I tried to squeeze the sucker out. It worked brilliantly. Kid you not, a stream of fine, clear liquid came out, squirting me in the eye. I had never seen anything like it before, but I was at church and couldn't tell anyone. Later, when Kelly and I were alone in the car I admitted it to her, but she wasn't buying the story. I then repeated the process and, sure enough, there was Old Faithful, jetting out of my finger. My wife became a believer. Also she was impressed at the trajectory I was able to produce. I was able to make it do that trick five times until it was done. Disgusting? Yes, but rather cool.

So when I woke up Sunday morning, my finger was swollen to the point that it was pressuring my wedding ring. While showering I used soap to lube it up and, quite painfully, took it off my finger. As I left for church I told Kelly I couldn't wear my ring and she muttered a barely understandable, "Dat's OK, baby." My finger is still swollen and I've not put it on since then. It's been over 24 hours now. So here I am, for the longest period of my married life, not wearing my wedding band.

When we were engaged, I wasn't looking forward to wearing a wedding band. I had never worn jewelry and wasn't sure I could get used to it. I remember the first few weeks after we were married I would stare at the ring, wondering if it would ever feel natural. And now, almost seven years later, I feel total naked without it. I love that ring. It's become a part of me. I'm actually looking to putting it back on. I now see what Gollum was talking about. Married life fits me like a glove . . . um, or a ring.

Nothing to worry about, Kelly. I haven't been hit on yet.