Today was suppose to be Mr. Man's big birthday present day, we took him on the train into downtown Toronto, and were then going to have lunch and go to the Hockey Hall of fame. A Newly-Three year old's idea of Heaven. Seriously.
Well...as we get off the train in Toronto and enter Union Station, I notice my left hand. Is empty. Naked. No wedding ring or engagement ring.
Holy Hell I've just lost my most valuable possessions on a random commuter train in the biggest city in Canada. Fuck is an understatement.
We retraced our steps to the platform, train had already left, no rings. We then went to customer service office, and filled a lost and found report, and thankfully because we had sat in the accessible car due to the stroller, we actual knew the carriage number we were in, and they were able to radio the conductor and have them search the train. They took our cell number and told us they'd call if my rings were found.
We decided to continue on to lunch since we were there, the husband's parents had driven downtown to meet us. We went to Shopsy's (for the locals) and had lunch. Seeing as how I'm sick as a dog with a nasty head cold and just getting over the disgusting wrong.in.every.way international stomach bug that has debilitated half of the continent, lunch wasn't as fun as we wanted it to be, but Mr Man seemed to have a blast which is all that matters. He adored being sung to and the candles (again). Kid is obsessed with blowing out candles.
After lunch we head back to Union station, check with customer service and find out they searched the train top to bottom and didn't find my rings (*sob*). We decide to skip the hockey hall of fame and go home, I was exhausted by this point and Husband decides he is coming down with the same above mentioned stomach bug, so we checked the train schedule and got on the next one...
Which happened to be the exact same carriage we took on the way in! Conductor even recognized us. I got to personally search the train, and still came up empty handed. I remembered I had taken a picture with the camera timer of all of us, so I hunt it down and zoom in, to discover that I am ringless in that picture, which was taken before we even left our starting station! The plot thickens.
I am relieved to think my ring isn't somewhere in the gravel at Union Station, but upset thinking someone had picked them up on the train and kept them, or I had lost them in the parking lot packing the kids into the stroller before even getting on the train. Bah.
Searched the station, parking lot and van with no result. Drive home with diminished hope. The last place that was still to be search was thus our house. But how could I have gotten up, gotten ready, out the door, driven an hour to the train station, spent an hour on the train, loaded, unloaded the kids, nurse baby girl 3 times, changed her bum, changed mr man's pants, and everything else, and NOT noticed I wasn't wearing my rings?
Well.
I did. I found my rings under our bed. No clue how they got there. I never take these suckers off. Unless I had become so dehydrated from the flu that they fell off my finger in the middle of the night and rolled (?) under our bed.
Who knows. But they are safely back on my finger and I am so happy.
During all of this, my son had a blast on the train, he kept screaming in joy, telling us how he was having "the best day EVA!" and deciding that Henry was pulling our train, and Sir Topenhat was making the announcements and just oh boy - beside himself. We couldn't have come up with a better way to celebrate the munchkins birthday. I took a gazillion pictures, I will try to get them all uploaded tomorrow, right now I am going to go collapse into bed and try not to blow my nose too hard unless I am sitting on the toilet, if.you.know.what.I.mean.
What
a
day.
I hope to be back to regular posting now, sitting at the computer is much easier when I can be reasonably assured what is, and is not, a true fart.
I'm so sorry I just shared that.
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