Nope. no good Samaritans here. Only us bad ones.

To the person who, in the roughly ten minutes that elapsed this afternoon between the time my daughter placed her sterling silver and blue sapphire ring on the counter of the bathroom in a local retail establishment while she washed her hands and the time when she realized that she'd left her ring there, found said ring and, rather than turning it into said retail establishment's service desk for safekeeping in the lost and found, instead elected to keep it: I hope you enjoy your ring muchly.

I also hope you contract some form of disease that makes further trips into restrooms both frequent and painful.

Love,
Me

(And no, this doesn't absolve my daughter of her responsibility for keeping track of her own belongings, a lesson which will now occupy the bulk of our interactions this weekend. But there's a way to be about stuff like this, folks. As a bit of moral calculus, "Finders Keepers" isn't of much use.)

(If it turns out that there was simply a lag time between the ring's finding and its arrival in the Lost and Found, I will redact this post. And no, I don't have any specific "shifty-eyed" character in mind here, as I wasn't watching people going into and out of the bathroom in the timeframe mentioned above.)