Road Trip Rule #5: Hotel Room Sweep

Well ladies and gents, we haven't made it very far at all. Though not for lack of effort on our part I might add. (See previous post for evidence)
We are just starting the blue ridge parkway in western Virginia. It's a little overcast and sprinkly but still gorgeous. There are plenty of trees and trees with coats; Laura's personal favourite. There are these trees in Virginia that have the appearance of wearing coats or cloaks of leaves on top of the branches and leaves they already have. It makes for beautiful cascading waves of green. Adam tells me it might be Virginia creeper growing up and around the trees. I say it's fantastic whatever causes it.
Last night we stayed at Day Inn in Mint Springs VA. Isn't that a great name? Mint Springs is right next to Stuart's Draft, another excellent place name. Well done rural Virginia, well done.
Well,  despite the charming names and the above average continental breakfast, we very nearly had a Debacle of Immense Proportions. Said Debacle of Immense Proportions involved two very important items: adam's hand made boy scout basket and, wait for it, Laura's engagement ring.  That's right folks, my engagment ring. If it weren't for the fact that I don't believe in yelling I would type that in all caps. For emphasis I will simply write it again: my engagement ring. The one with the stone from Adam's mission in Brazil and the band I choose myself for my apparently tiny finger (size 4.5). Kind of irreplacable. Valuable mostly for sentiment sake but also because it's irreplacable. Insert gasp of horror because I surely felt it. We checked out, packed up our things and get several miles down the freeway before I realised, as I put my watch on, that my finger was bare. I pointed and asked the car/universe/patient husband "where is it?" to which the reply was "in the change basket." The hand made boy scout basket I love. The car was promptly searched (as best I could while it is moving - difficult proposition on account of all the stuff) we pulled over at the next stopping place and I frantically pulled out our stuff from that morning. No basket, no ring. We hustled back to the hotel ( I was convinced I had brought it out and put it on the car for loading so by this point I was convinced both beloved items were crushed to smithereens) nothing in the car park so I ran up to the hotel room and gazed in the window to behold......the basket on the bed side table. Everybody breathe a sigh of relief.
We have a new family rule: hotel room must be swept by both parties.