When Camille was 5.5 and Chloe 1, we went to Ireland for a friend’s wedding. We stayed in Salthill, near the beach. Between us and Galway was Claddagh. Camille really wanted a Claddagh ring, and we, amazingly enough, found one small enough for her little finger. The ring came along with a little book that told the story of the ring; unfortunately, the ring itself wasn’t very high quality and turned brown. Camille kept wearing it, up until it broke.
Two years after we bought the original, we were driving over the Mackinaw bridge in Michigan and stopped at a souvenir shop, only because they had a cool pirate ship playground. In the store, amazingly enough, they were selling small sized Claddagh rings, complete with a small gem-like stone. The stone fell out after about two weeks, but Camille kept wearing the ring. And wearing it. And wearing it. Until it could not come off.
Today we tried various tricks to remove it, but none worked. So we headed to the mall and had it cut off. Her finger should heal soon….
Now that I see the picture — that wasn’t going to come off any other way!
Ouch! That looks like that must have hurt.