The Girl With No Pearl Earring

This afternoon at work, I gasped when my hand brushed up against my ear and I realized my ear lope was bare.  Naked.  As in no earring.

I’m not one bit of a  jewelry person by any means.  I have a couple items and I never remember to wear them, but I’ve been wearing my pearl earrings, the ones Rick gave me a year or so ago, because it seems I’ve developed a bit of an allergy to cheap jewelry and all I can wear in my ears is real gold, and these pearl earrings are the only quality earrings I own.

Plus, did I mention Rick gave them to me?  I’m not a jewelry person.  Therefore, my husband does not lavish me with jewels.  But I was so touched when he bought these for me, and now I am so sad that one is missing.

I sent out an email to my entire office, including all the doctors,  just in case they might have spotted a stray pearl around the hallways or by the paper shredder.

And then tonight when I got home, Rick said, “Hey, I found the back of an earring in front of the wine rack.” and hope sprang anew!

You never really know how filthy your house really is until you are crawling around the baseboards, feeling under the fridge, swiffering under the furniture  looking for a shiny pretty pearl on the end of a gleaming gold post.

When I find that pearl, I just might sell the pair and pay someone to come clean my house.

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