The one ring

And some things that should not have been forgotten were lost. History became legend. Legend became myth. And for two and a half thousand years, the ring passed out of all knowledge.

Until, when chance came, it ensnared another bearer.

Galadriel, The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001)

“Yes, I’d like to make appointments for well-child checkups, please.”

“Three and five.”

“MOM! MOM! MOM! MOM!”

“Marcus, I’m on the phone! Just hold on a second.”

“Mom, Mom, I found the One Ring!”

“What?”

“The One Ring from The Lord of the Rings.”

“What?– Yes, the 21st is fine.”

“It was in the back of the couch! I found your knitting needle, too. Is it the One Ring? Does it have Powers?”

“Just… Yes, are there any afternoon appointments? I see. The eleven o’clock, then.– Marcus, just bring it upstairs.– Great, thanks.”

I hear the stompings of two children climbing stairs with great haste, and shortly thereafter a slightly dusty plastic bag containing the One Ring is deposited on my desk by an eager five-year-old.

“Mom, can we keep it?”

My missing knitting needle is perched precariously upon the top of a pile of random papers on my desk. It’s nice to know that my Brittany birch knitting needle has not lost its mate.

However, I sit here now with a copy of the One Ring on my desk. The slightly marred surface marks it as the costume jewelry version, not the lovely ones available from The Noble Collection. This knowledge is not at all helpful to me in determining its origins, however.

Frantic contacts with those friends who have sat on my couch have yielded no owners of missing Rings of Power, although one did confess to being a gnome. I think he meant dwarf and was just mis-remembering, but then again, maybe he did mean gnome. (Although gnomes are far less powerful than dwarves, if you ask me.)

Let me tell you, asking people if they’ve lost the One Ring will get you some mighty weird reactions. From the husband: “I hope we don’t have an infestation of hobbits now; fleas, crickets, and ants are enough pests for one year. If the damn cat were actually useful for eliminating pests this sort of thing wouldn’t happen.”

From Michael Handler, the man who would be gnome: “I’m going to turn invisible and do some badass shit.”

From Abby Franquemont: “Realistically there is probably no safer place for the One Ring than inside a couch. Unless, mind you, there’s a 5-year-old handy.”

From my son: “I wantssssss it! I want to turn invisible! I want to be Frodo!”.

I have rifled through my jewelry box and found the silver chains that Matthew and I bought to hold our wedding rings. One is now looped through the One Ring.

I will ask one more person whether it is his, and then I will give it to the new Ring Bearer.

Illumination came from our housemate when he finally woke up. The source of the One Ring has been determined to be The Lord of the Rings RISK game. The ring has apparently been missing for months.

This newfound knowledge, however, is of no use to me–the Ring Bearer and his One Ring have gone missing. Oh, bother.

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