My Guy is Indiana Jones

Today, I am thinking about how much I love my guy.  Really.  He is the best.

If you're into that whole train-of-consciousness thing, then you've come to the right place because I am about to explain the exact chain of events that led to me sitting here, typing on my keyboard as I consider just how great my guy is.


It all started with my black leather tote bag, which I love.  It's large and spacious and has room for everything imaginable - my wallet, a tube of lip gloss, my portfolio, a bottle of wine. . . you know, the typical stuff one carries in ones purse.

But mostly, I love it because it was a gift from my son's girlfriend.  She gave it to me after a trip home to China to visit her family.  (Apparently, China makes more than just cheap electronics and toxic baby formula.)

Anyway. . . I love my tote (for the aforementioned reasons) so you can understand why I was upset when I entered the house the other day, pulled the tote off my shoulder, and noticed one strap was broken.  The straps are held in place by a brass bolt with round nuts at each end and apparently a nut had come loose and the bolt had fallen out.

Always one to rush to my rescue, my husband Macgyvered a steel bolt & nuts which made the purse functional (but looked like crap).

Then he got an idea.

"Where do you think you lost the bolt?"

"Umm. . . if I knew that, it wouldn't be lost, now would it?"

Being long immune to my sarcasm, he rephrased his question.

"Do you think it fell out in your car?  Because I vacuumed it out yesterday."

"Er...maybe..." I said as I followed him to the garage where he pulled out the Shop Vac, opened the lid, and began digging through the dust and dirt. (Yes, my guy will do just about anything for me.)

"Here!"  he exclaimed as he pulled out my purses's missing brass bolt.  But before I could rejoice over his find, he got a strange puzzled look on his face, reached back into the dust and pulled out . . . (are you ready for this?) . . . a honking big diamond ring!

He found a diamond ring in his shop vac!  A diamond ring!  And not just any old diamond ring.  No-sir-ee Bob.  This diamond is the mother of all diamonds!

Macgyver be damned!  My guy is Indiana Jones!


  1. Now that's what I call a great find! Lucky you!

    1. It turned out, the ring was my late mother's. My sister thought she lost it at her home - which is in a different city!

  2. My husband MacGyvers stuff too. Only he uses more descriptive terminology. I like MacGyvered though.

  3. WTH?! I'm going to get Hubs to get out the shop vac RIGHT NOW! LOL

  4. Wa hoo! I'd say he's a keeper!

  5. I love a man who can Macgyver!

  6. really? a diamond ring? dang, i ought to dig through my vac bags more often!
    sounds like you have a good husband who likes to fix things for you. mine doesn't know how to do such things.

  7. WHHHAAATTTTT!!!?????!!!!!!!

    You can't just leave a cliffy like that!!! I demand a recount!!!!

    You must tell us!!! How did it get there? Was it a present? Was he trying to surprise you? Did you lose the ring? Did you know it was lost? TELLLLLL USSSSSS!!!!!! We must know!

  8. Okay. Okay. I've calmed down a bit Kara. Luckily for you I'm not soo hot headed that I took the time to read the other comments. And your lovely responce to the whereabouts of the ring before and after the aforementioned scenario. Sheesh. I was about to buy a ticket to Canada to figure out the ending to this story:)

  9. Haha! Big ring in his shop vac eh :)

    But sweeter still that he dug through the vac bag for you xx