I’ve had the explainable happen only a few times in my life. Every time one of these instances occurs, the strength of my there-must-always-be-a-possible-explanation flies out the window.

Two weeks ago our family was enjoying our yearly Christmas vacation. Yes, this year it happened in April, but that’s how it goes sometimes. Anyway, my husband woke up the first night and discovered his wedding ring gone. Not he-left-it-on-the-nightstand-gone, we’re talking it-has-never-left-his-hand-for-almost-twenty-years gone.

For the entire week we searched the room at least once a day. We stripped the bed, looked in every piece of luggage we brought, ran our fingers under every piece of furniture we could not lift. It was gone!

On the last day of our vacation I finally convinced my husband we needed to move on and just buy him another ring. Our twenty-year anniversary was coming up in May. After living with me that long, he definitely deserved another ring. And jewelry in the Caribbean is way cheaper than the states, so it was best to pull the trigger now rather than wait. Of course the jewelry store didn’t have his size so we filled out a shipping form to have it sent to us.

After being home more than a week, my husband went into a coughing fit in the middle of the night. This happens a lot around here so the cough drops are always flowing. He reached inside the bag to pull out a cough drop, but his fingers felt something weird. To his amazement, he pulled out his ring. Yes, I had that bag of cough drops on the trip, but I never left it lying around. I kept it tucked in my travel purse the whole time. My kids swear they didn’t touch the ring. I know I didn’t. My husband would have never let me buy him another ring if he had found it and put it there. So how in the world did that ring end up there? I. Have. No. Idea… Fairies?