I have heard several proposal stories over the years, but I like ours best. (Yes, I know, I am biased.) So, that night, as Hubband and I lay in bed, reading, I asked him. “Honey, do you mind if I write and post our proposal story?”
“‘Yes’ you mind, or ‘yes’ I can post it?” He was reading, so I thought maybe he misunderstood (failed to listen to) the question.
“Yes, I mind.”
“How can you mind?”
He gave me a look.
“But our proposal story is great!” I said.
He kept reading.
“What if I write the story, but don’t say that it is about you?”
He gave me another look. Even while reading he followed this illogic.
I pouted for a bit and then said, “You don’t read my blog anyway. I could just post it and you would never know.”
Another look, this one ominous.
“Fine,” I said. “I won’t write our proposal story.”
So, I won’t write our proposal story. But, I can write about other people’s stories, and maybe you will get some idea what ours was like.
I met a young and adorable (in a good way) couple on a cruise ship who got engaged at the end of a family and friend scavenger hunt. The last item on the list brought her to the steps of the church where they would later be wed. He was waiting there, wearing a suit, carrying a bouquet of flowers and, in front of pretty much everyone who mattered to her, got down on one knee and proposed. They were very sweet as they told it.
Our proposal story, which I am not telling, was far less orchestrated and populated than this one.
I heard of another hopeful groom who rented horses for a ride on the beach and then read a poem he had written before proposing. At first, I thought this was kind of silly, but I was told that it meant something to the couple and she was really happy. Good for them.
Our proposal story, which I am not telling, involved no sand, no pack animals, no words that rhymed.
But, my favorite proposal story of all time (mostly because it is so easy to mock) is one I saw on reality television. Bear with me. It was one of those wedding shows. The couple had been living together for years. They owned a house together. She helped him pick out the ring, and knew that he was going to propose on Christmas Eve.
His set up: rose petals all over their bed and the floor of their bedroom, candles on every flat surface, and my favorite, a reindeer, fashioned out of twinkly lights, like you see in (tacky) people’s yards at Christmas, balanced dead center in the middle of the bed.
He videotaped the whole thing, (just in case they were ever on one of those wedding reality shows) and boy am I glad he did. But, I got the feeling that the camera, pointed directly at the bed, did not need to be set up especially for this event.
Anyway…on Christmas Eve, the appointed day, at the appointed hour, she walked into her room and looked around, stunned (like a girl caught is reindeer lights). He got down on one knee and pulled out the ring she had picked. She started to scream. Screaming, like I have never heard before. He couldn’t even say his prepared speech (I am assuming he had one). She just kept screaming, and jumping up and down on the bed, rose petals and lighted reindeer flying every which way. Then she started crying and nodding her head, and of course she put the ring on, which she modeled for the camera.
Our proposal story, which I am not telling, was not rehearsed or ridiculous, and only a little bit tacky.
The one thing these stories have in common, is that they suit the people in them. As did ours.
There was no speech, no poetry, no flowers. Just a boy, a girl, a question, an answer, a ring, a flushing toilet.
It is a great story. Really.
I wish you could read it.
Photo found here.