Dad picked me up from the pub this afternoon. He was looking down.
"Are you ok?", I asked. "I've had a disaster" he said. "Mum's wedding ring fell off my finger and went under the washing machine, but I can't get it".(He's worn her ring on his little finger since she died twelve years ago. It's his last link to her.)
I rang a mate of mine and he came over and after much scrabbling around under the machine Dad was re-united with the ring. The joy on his face was obvious. My mate wouldn't accept any payment.
He'll have a good few pints behind the bar tomorrow!