How I Explained Losing My Wedding Ring To My Wife

What on Earth do you say to your spouse after accidentally losing your wedding ring in the ocean? This was the horrifying predicament I found myself in last night. To make matters worse, it was a careless mishap influenced by alcohol. Astonishingly, after explaining this to my wife I wasn’t banished to the couch for the night nor quietly bludgeoned to death in my sleep — instead, she instantly forgave me. If you ever find yourself in a similar dilemma, here’s a confessional tip that will greatly increase your odds of surviving the fallout.

Yesterday, Allure Media and Lifehacker celebrated a successful 2014 by swanning about Sydney Harbour on a luxury yacht. Despite the patchy weather, a great nautical time was had by all; in no small part thanks to the abundance of merry-making beverages on board and a playlist of Spice Girls ditties. We even had a canoe (which proved to be my downfall).

Here’s a group photo that was taken during our boat trip. I’m the guy in the front row with the fabulous hair:

Can you see anything wrong with this picture? (Apart from my dubious hair claims, that is.) Let’s take a closer look, shall we?

Yep. My wedding ring is completely AWOL. At this point, I had no idea it was missing. It wasn’t until we were disembarking onto the wharf that I had the vague sense something was off. My left hand felt weirdly…naked.

Even after staring at my fingers, it still took a few seconds for the awful significance to register. When it hit me, it was like an anchor to the heart. Oh no. No. NOOOOOOOOOO!

Like a complete idiot, I’d managed to knock my ring loose. A frenzied search of the yacht confirmed I’d lost it in the murky depths of Sydney Harbour. Doubtlessly this transpired during my rubbish attempt at canoeing with a belly full of beer. (Just say “no” to drink-paddling, kids.)

My colleagues were appropriately sympathetic to my predicament and each took a moment to offer their condolences and/or advice on how to approach the wife. Transcribed from memory, I’ve included a few kernels of wisdom below:

“Your wife loves you and you’re not religious, so she’s not gonna care one bit. Maybe.”

“I always take my wedding ring off whenever I go swimming. Uh, that doesn’t really help you now. Sorry.”

“[Wrestling star] Ravishing Rick Rude always covered his wedding ring with masking tape whenever he was tusslin’ in the ring. You should have been like Rick Rude, dude!”

“Your wife already knows you’re a f*ck-up right? Just tell her you f*cked up again.”

“Right, right, right, you need to say it was ALL MY FAULT! Tell her a crazy member of the sales team forced you to take your ring off so you could be his wing man and pick up chicks with him. He wouldn’t take no for an answer! Then I went mental and threw it into the ocean. That’s how I roll! Do you want me to call her?”

Needless to say, I was in an increasingly manic state during the long train ride home. Part of me was devastated for losing the symbol of our marriage; a band of gold that I’d rarely (if ever) taken off since tying the knot. Sure, it was store-bought and easy to replace, but that’s beside the point. This was the ring she placed on my finger on our wedding day — and I will never see it again. Sniff.

Another part of me was charged with survivor’s instinct. I was about to walk into a minefield of my own making: one wrong step and it would be farewell and adieu to you fair Spanish ladies.

I even began cooking up absurd schemes of self-preservation. If I didn’t say anything at all, maybe she wouldn’t notice? I could covertly buy a replacement on the weekend with her being none the wiser! All I had to do was make it through the week with my hands permanently stuffed in my pockets. It was totally doable! But no. Marriage is based on trust. As much as I feared for the safety of my eardrums (and gonads) I had to face the music.

As luck would have it, my wife was in the process of cancelling a lost credit card as I walked through the front door. So we both lost something that day. Immediately after my confession (which went down surprisingly well), I suggested that we turn this downer into a positive by renewing our vows. Her eyes instantly lit up.

The take-home lesson here is that you should offer to remarry your spouse if you to lose your wedding ring — or stuff up in any other way, really. It’s an instant get-out-of-jail free card. I’m now going to be down a few thousand dollars but feel vastly richer. All’s well that ends well. (On a related note, does anybody know a good caterer?)


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