Who's The Daddy: ​Relief as lost wedding ring turns up at the till in Aldi

​The only downside to losing a lot of weight quite quickly is that when you’re out and about, your wedding ring falls off.
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​Last November yours truly was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes and thanks to a change in diet, kinesiology and sheer bloody-minded willpower I got it into remission four months later and it’s left me with a trim waist, a proper jawline and the spindly fingers of a wiry 10-year-old boy.

There had been a couple of near misses, such as clapping Morecambe FC off the pitch after Cole Stockton’s spectacular 89th-minute winner against Wycombe Wanderers earlier this month, and again during a lively aqua aerobics session a week earlier.

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But last Friday night, after lugging the shopping out of the boot after our weekly trip to Aldi, something was missing. A 40g, 18 carat band of gold that’s felt part of me since April 4, 1998.

There was sheer panic at the thought of losing his wedding ringThere was sheer panic at the thought of losing his wedding ring
There was sheer panic at the thought of losing his wedding ring

Panic. Sheer, absolute panic. Me and the boss could’ve sworn blind we heard it ping off the laminate floor in the hall, and these things have a habit of bouncing like the first ball of an Ashes series and then rolling off into oblivion.

But no such luck. So more in hope than expectation, I retraced my steps back to Aldi, scouted round the car park and trolleys without success and then went back in to the store to say to the manager that if, on the off chance someone finds it and hands it in, here’s my number.

He was so helpful. He had a look around, took my details and a description of the ring and then, when I was on the way out he said: “Is this it?” and walked towards me with the little band of gold in his hands.

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Dear reader, I nearly fainted with relief. He found it near the till where I’d paid 15 minutes earlier. It must’ve slipped off my finger when loading the weekly shop into our big old blue IKEA bags.

I couldn’t thank him enough. I don’t think the English language has the words. And he even recommended a jewellers in town to get it altered, Firths, which I did the next morning.

Turns out my ring finger is one-and-a-half sizes smaller than pre-diagnosis. Which explains the two near misses and the eventual loss.Even though it weighs slightly less than sod all, I feel unbalanced walking around without it. Firths reckon we should be reunited in a week or so.

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