Consider it a vent...

I've had two experiences with vents in the last week. The first occurred when my grandma's wedding ring, which I wear with mine, plinked, plinked, plinked from the top of my jewelry chest onto the floor, then plinked, plinked, plinked DOWN THE AIR VENT. Here's what followed:

1. Panic.
2. Panic.
3. Absolute PANIC.
4. Mike, Sweet Hubby, arrives.
5. Children scatter on a mission to find every single flashlight we own.
6. Mike puts his hand down the vent and announces that he's got a penny.
7. Fabulous. We're wealthy now!
8. Instead of said penny, Mike pulls out Helen's wedding ring.
9. JOY, ELATION, SCREAMING, and Bursting into tears.
10. Return to calm, and sending many prayers of gratitude upwards.

Here's the other vent:

Everyone has people in their lives who are rude, inappropriate, and just plain mean. They revel in getting in little digs here and there and just genuinely being nasty. I have one of those people. I have the esteemed pleasure or spending time with this person in regular occurrences. It's AWESOME. Sarcasm, anyone?

I'm learning how to deal with this person. It's not easy to say the very least. Frankly, it's miserable. But, I also know that I'm the better person for not absolutely having a down home conniption. What I need to do, it to pray more. Pray for patience and strength. And grace. And that that person might have the opportunity to move. Very, very far away. Is that bad? Hmmm...I'll just stick to grace and strength and patience...