I laugh every time I see a commercial that suggests all a man needs to do is walk into a jewelry store, grab the nearest thing that sparkles, present it to his girlfriend/wife, and she’ll drop to her knees and thank him with sexual favors. Because every girl loves jewelry right? We’re suckers for that crap. 

I hate jewelry. I don’t hate jewelry as a thing, although I do think it’s a bizarre custom that has, over time, become so customary that it’s almost invisible. But that’s another post for another time. What I mean is that I don’t wear jewelry, I hate wearing it. I own a couple pairs of earrings, maybe a necklace or three, and a few rings, most of which are in an old condom tin, lost in my closet somewhere. I don’t like the feeling of something around finger or dangling off my ears or choking my neck. I’ll slip something on now and then to dress up a little (”now and then” translates to maybe twice a year), but generally I’m a pretty plain Jane.

When Brad and I started to get serious, I assured him he wouldn’t have to buy me an engagement ring because all I wanted was a simple wedding band that didn’t drive me batty (no, this is not a sly way to announce our engagement, relax). I thought this would make him happy, but it turns out I picked one of those sentimental guys who prefers to embrace romance rather than celebrate when excused from it. He liked the idea of picking out a ring and planning a proposal. How could I deny him that? So we compromised, agreeing that after we were married and I had a wedding band, I would only wear the flashy engagement ring when I felt like dressing up or showing it off. I can live with that.

My point, which I’m getting to in a very longwinded way, is that I got a new ring. Again, not an engagement ring, stop assuming that’s where this is going. But now I have two very special rings that I may occassionally slip on, each of which has a cute little story to accompany it. And they go like this:

The first is from Brad. When his mom opened her gift shop last year, this is one of a few pieces of jewelry she carried. On the days that we helped her set up shop, I often admired this ring out loud for it’s simplicity. So one day, soon after the shop had opened officially to customers, Brad and I visited, and I again noted the ring sitting in its display. We then left to run an errand for his mom, and upon our return, I discovered the ring was missing! A customer had purchased it while we were gone, can you believe it?

Yes, I fell for this little story completely. I was honestly shocked when I opened the little box the next day and saw the ring. He had his mom put it aside while we were gone so he could later buy it. It was all so damn sweet that somehow my heart talked my hand into tolerating a ring for much longer than it ever has. I wore that ring almost every day for a year and a half before it started to irritate me. Now, though I still love it dearly, I only put it on occassionally, because otherwise I fear my hands might fall off in protest.

(Don’t feel too bad for Brad. I bought him a ring in March, one that he picked out, and he has always only worn it on occassion. That’s how we roll I guess.)

My second favorite ring is one I received only yesterday. For my birthday, B’s parents and grandma took us out to dinner last weekend. On his grandma’s hands I noticed two very unique rings. Strange, I thought, those look like the handles of fancy spoons. So I inquired.

Sure enough, they were fancy spoons twisted into rings! I gushed over these things, perhaps some of the coolest rings I had ever seen. A few days later, when Brad visited his grandma to pick up the antique butter bowl she generously gave us for our holiday nuts, she also threw in a little something for me.

The spoon ring of course, with a little note that said “Shannon, I thought you would like this.” I was so touched, not only because it was so thoughtful and kind, but because hello! It’s a spoon! Made into a ring!