08 August 2015


While visiting Germany a few summers ago, I picked up what I was told was a sterling silver charm as a little souvenir. I have a charm bracelet and charms are some of the best souvenirs but can be hard to find, so this was an exciting purchase. It's in the shape of a pretzel. I love pretzels. At a biergarten in Munich I got a pretzel bigger than my face and it was probably the happiest I'd been all summer. I could not wait to get back and get my pretzel charm put on my bracelet.

But then the unthinkable happened. I took it in to the jewelry shop and was told that it was not a sterling charm. What?! So it came home and sat on my dresser for three sad years.

Thankfully, my childlike faith in Germany and the fact that no one would lie to me, ever, never gave up on my little pretzel. I knew that sucker was sterling and three years of tarnish only confirmed that faith further. I scrounged up and down that little charm, searching for the telling "925" stamp, but it was nowhere to be seen. But wait up, Molly. What if the stamp isn't on the charm? Lo and behold, there on the connector ring were some indiscernable scratchings that were undoubtedly my 925, right? With a renewed sense of righteousness, I told my mom that we needed to go try again. And we did. Two shops. You know what? The second agreed. My pretzel is on its way to being forever attached to my sweet lil' bracelet.*

Moral of the story: I am always right and moms get stuff done.

*if, in the very-very-extremely-rare-like-almost-never-happens-ever-uh-uh circumstance that I am wrong, my little pretzel is probably on its way to being a puddle of melted not-sterling silver. But, hey, the risk is worth the reward for me here.

1 comment:

  1. Anonymous19.1.16

    Every time I come back to see if you've written a new post, I see this pretzel photo and I wonder about the boy on the table. I'm 92% certain he's been Photoshopped in but the couple in the background are staring in this direction, as if he were real...

    Mysteries abound.