Spoiled Girl Shit

My husband is forever frustrated by my complaints about my wedding rings.  These are rings he designed himself - taking care to make sure I didn't have  a setting that sat up too high because he knew I didn't like that. Taking care  that these rings didn't look like my other wedding rings because I needed to  get away from that whole experience. I can get pretty shallow when I get going.  Stuff like, "It was fine for my 27 year old hand, but my 42 year old hand needs  better bling." "I wish I had got diamonds in the band...we spent a mortgage on  our photos but why didn't anyone tell me to get diamonds in the band?!?" Spoiled  girl shit like that. Yet, every time I lose my rings (and I have to admit it's been  more than once but less than ten times) I get a feeling of horrible dread that  starts right at the top of my head and travels all the way to my toes. And  so far I've been incredibly lucky that they have been returned to me before  I really have to squirm. I like to think that with each temporary loss I'm  learning the lesson that these symbols of marriage represent much more  than carat, setting and bling factor. That the reason I get them back is  because I deserve them and this marriage and that maybe one day I will  deserve the man who had them made them for me. It's much more likely  that I am just a spoiled rotten little shit who just gets lucky all the time.