John and I have been married 6 years. The first year we adjusted to living together, married life, and our puppy. And John lost his wedding ring. We were well into our evening at the casinos in Tahoe when, as he claims, it "just fell off". The second year of marriage we settled into our careers, explored new activities (softball for John, triathlons for me), and bought a house. And John broke his wedding ring. The replacement ring was nowhere as nice as the original platinum band, it was sterling silver (why trust him twice with something expensive???). He caught a line drive on the pitcher's mound and the ring cracked in two. The third year we replaced the ring with a Titanium band, supposedly indestructible, and still cheaper than platinum. We coasted through three more years of having children, another house, and many world travels. Then, John lost his wedding ring. In Tahoe. Again. And yes, we had been to the casinos. Now, just 3 weeks later, I lost my wedding band in San Francisco. I realized it while chasing my nephew through the lobby of our hotel. Oh shit. Attempting to remain calm, I passed off my kid duty and speed walked to my room. A frantic search of the floor found it hidden under a backpack in the corner. The moral of the story? I have removed my rings until I can find time to get them resized. John, on the other hand, has decided to get a tattoo on his ring finger. I think we should just engrave a new ring with the following: If found, please call (XXX), reward, my wife is going to kill me.