I FOUND DAVE'S WEDDING RING

I'm excited. He is confused. Who, cares, WE DID IT!

Looks like Jesus came through!

For the record, I am writing this as I come off yet another bloody mary buzz, so excuse the incoherence. I am also ridiculously excited, so there's that.

Today, I found Dave's fucking wedding ring.

After renting a metal detector, lurking in front of the neighbor's and staring at the ground every single time I walked the dog in daylight, I FINALLY FOUND IT.

Do you know why?

My mom and Jesus.

This is hilarious because my mom is a total Jew. Who is married to an atheist scientist. (Could I be any more like her?) But she was told by her best friend, a Catholic, to say two Our Fathers. So she did. Hey, St. Anthony has helped her find her own lost ring before, so she figured it couldn't hurt.

When I was on my walk today with Rocco, I was also on the phone with my mom. As we walked by the neighbor's, I looked down in the melting snow like I always do. But this time, I saw it. I saw the fucking ring. All because of her and her prayer.

I shouted a string of ecstatic expletives as I snatched that sucker up from the ground. Rocco and I practically ran back to the apartment and burst through the door with a sense of total accomplishment.

Dave was napping -- he rode to INDIANA this morning -- so we threw open the bedroom door and pounced on the bed. Rocco jacked Dave in the groin, so he was a wee bit cranky when we came in. Until I produced THE RING.

I put it on his hand and pranced out of the room to let him finish his nap.

I bet when he wakes up, he'll be all, "Where the hell did this ring come from?"

ME.

And my mom and Jesus.