When Mr. Barefoot first started looking for my engagement ring, he "stole" a ring of mine that was a hair too small (he didn't know that) and used it to find out what ring size I needed. The whole thing was supposed to be a surprise.
I loved being surprised with a ring for my birthday, and the ring was beautiful. It was just a hair tight, ya know?
Then we got married. We got a wedding band to fit, and after a while (and a few pounds) I ended up taking off the engagement ring because purple (though a beautiful color on it's own) just wasn't a color I wanted my finger to be.
A few years passed, and I continued to gain weight. I am putting all the blame for that squarely on Mr. Barefoot's shoulders. A few weeks ago, I finally got heavy enough that I could no longer wear my wedding band. While my finger cried with relief at having that thing taken off, I was very upset. A wedding ring is important to a gal.
Mr. Barefoot, who was even more upset at my rings sitting on the bedside table than I was, took both rings to be re sized.
I got them back yesterday? The day before? What day is it today?
Anyway, I got them back, and they are now securely on my finger where they belong. They are all shiny and clean, and the scratches have all been buffed out. I keep getting distracted by the "sparklies".Once again, I feel married.