I’ve just lost – and found! – yet another earring. It’s uncanny how I keep doing this!
I have lost many, many earrings in my life. Most of the time it’s been my own damn fault, because I am a fiddler. I play with little things. I just can’t leave small items alone. Earrings are small. They are easy to play with. They are just as easy to lose.
But in the past year or so, several earrings have simply dropped out of my ears. Really, they have! The kind I keep losing don’t have backings on them, so if the dangly bit (now that sounds a bit risqué, doesn’t it!) is just the right weight or length, the earring will work its way loose. Lots of times I discover this while it’s still in my ear – because I play with my earrings a lot. But sometimes, it is too late and the earring is gone.
I had lost one of a favourite pair of pink (of course) earrings on Friday, which was a day where I was at a morning conference, at home for lunch, back at my regular school for the afternoon, in my car in between all this, in various parking lots and bathrooms – so really, there was no way I would ever find that missing earring. No hope in hell. I’d just been in too many places by the time I noticed the earring was gone.
This morning, I was walking from the parking lot to the building, chatting with little Sara and her mom. Sara’s mom is also a teacher at my school, and Sara is in Grade 3 there, so they travel to and from school together most days. Sara loves pink as much as I do, and was, in fact, sporting a pink t-shirt and pants today. I commented on her stellar choice of outfits, then started to tell her about losing that pink earring on Friday. I was just mentioning to her that all the places I’d been that day made it impossible to even hunt for the earring when we came to the stairs into the front door of the school. I looked down momentarily to make sure I was going to navigate those stairs correctly (yes, there have been incidents. Don’t even ask.), when I spied something pink. I bent down to pick it up. It was my earring, lodged in a crack in the cement.
Sara’s eyes just about popped out of her little head, while her mom and I whooped like crazy women. I carefully tucked the dirty earring into a pocket of my wallet, knowing that I’d be happy for the rest of the day.
I tell ya, it’s the little things that keep ya going!