Mom, Why Did You Make Me Return that Mood Ring?

When I was approximately five years old (1976?) my parents took me and my older brother and sister on a trip to the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History in Washington, DC. It was there in the first floor ladies' room that I found an elegant mood ring forgotten on a sink ledge. Thrilled with my discovery, I excitedly raced over to my mother and proudly presented my findings. My exuberance was quickly dashed, however, when my mother glanced at the ring and said in the same breath, "That ring does not belong to you. We will have to turn it in to the lost and found."

Dumbstruck, I numbly followed behind my mother and silently handed my precious ring over to a kindly security guard. Tears welled as I watched him place the ring in a box under his desk. Even at that tender age, I knew that if the owner never came forth to claim her ring, I still would not be named its rightful heir. I cannot remember anything else about that day for I was so upset by my great loss.

I have been obsessed with jewelry, specifically rings, ever since.

This past Saturday morning found me sleeping in until the delicious hour of 10:15. I padded downstairs to greet Husband and The Dogs Three. I put a pot of coffee on to brew and checked my phone for new email. Scrolling through the messages, I found one from my auto loan company. Since they send me a statement every month, I barely paid attention as I scanned the dollar amount applied to our loan. Then I did a double-take.

"Um...honey--did you pay off the car loan?" I asked Husband, eyes still glued to the contents of the email.

"No, why?" Husband asked.

"Because they sent an email saying that we paid "X" amount on the loan which almost pays it off," I replied. We have three years left on this loan so the amount is significant.

"It's a phishing email," Husband responded all-knowingly, "just disregard it."

"Hmmm...I don't know. It doesn't look like a phishing email..."

Way ahead of me, Husband pulled out his laptop and logged into the financial website.

"The check was mailed in so it's not like they drafted it from our bank account accidentally," he reported. "They must have applied someone else's check to our account by mistake."

Countless jokes ensued about how we should quickly pay off the remainder of the loan, get the title, swallow it, then plead ignorance. We even called my dad to see if he paid off the loan (as if he could--he's got six kids and doesn't exactly have the means to go around paying off all of our car loans nor is he given to favoritism). No answer from Dad but we knew what the answer would be. My mind flashed to that day at the Smithsonian.

"Dammit--looks like I'll be calling the auto-loan company on Monday," I declared. "No sense in bringing our son into the world with a pair of felons for parents." Husband readily agreed.

I called the financial company today and the customer service rep was wonderfully helpful. "Wow--you're so honest. I've never run into this situation before but I will remove the payment immediately while we research this."

My mood was sour as I silently cursed my parents for teaching me not to steal.

"Hey--has anyone told you about our rewards program?" the customer service rep asked me.

I brightened. "No, no they haven't," I replied. Rewards program? Were we going to get a reward for our honesty? Would it be money? That is so cool!

"Oh yeah," the rep expanded, "we have a credit card that gives you a reward with each purch..."

Disappointed, I tuned her out. In no way did it ever cross my mind that we would get a reward for doing the right thing, but I wasn't expecting a sales pitch for a credit card either.

As I type this I can think of only one way to feel better about my two great losses: Mama, I want my mood ring!