As I may or may not have mentioned, I got really antsy for a question’ poppin’ immediately after we moved in together. Mr. Ladyfingers made the tactical error of telling me last June that he already knew how he was going to do it, and that he’d talked to people about it, and that I wouldn’t have to wait that long.
Being the charming, laid-back creature that I am, this turned every major event between June and Christmas into a nervous freakout letdown session. Our trip to the beach in July, my 30th birthday party, Halloween, Thanksgiving, anytime we went out to dinner, most weekends, and some Tuesdays.
I was a constant ball of nerves, all because he had the audacity to tell me he was going to ask me to marry him eventually. I’m telling you, I seriously checked sock drawers from time to time to see if there was a ring in there. So shameful.
The difference between him and me has always been that I’m never certain of anything, while he takes everything as a given. More or less. In other words, I was surprised when he agreed we should move in together, while he just assumed it would happen. I was nervous he’d never ask me to marry him, while he felt that it was natural and didn’t understand why I was so pessimistic. Heh… well, I’m the Yin to his Yang (although I’m sure neither side includes tremendous anxiety and social awkwardness).
Well, folks, I had a little preview of what he was going to do the night my dad called me about a week before Christmas. I was at Village Inn one night with eventual-Bridesmaid-Esquire, and I checked my phone to see that Dad had called me four times. Thinking something was wrong, I immediately phoned back. Turns out he was the one who was panicked – he’d gotten a voicemail from Mr. Ladyfingers and assumed it was because something terrible had happened. So he called me. And then asked me to ask Mr. Ladyfingers what he wanted.
However, after having let myself down so many times, I convinced myself this wasn’t going to happen. Anyway, even if that did mean what I thought it meant, it could be Christmas, New Year’s, Valentine’s Day… none of the above… who knows?!
Then, a few days before Christmas as we drove to the supermarket to stock up on holiday food, I saw a parking pass to my dad’s complex on the floor of Mr. Ladyfinger’s car.
Still, I wasn’t expecting what happened.
I had been so excited about Christmas Eve for weeks. It’s my favorite holiday. My family always celebrated most on the Eve, as a matter of tradition. Some of this was an Italian thing, eating the big fish dinner and all. The rest was just because cousins and other married folks in the family tended to spend Christmas Day with the non-Italian in-laws, so we did our shebang the night before, even opening presents on Christmas Eve. So that morning, I got up to walk the dog at 7 a.m. and didn’t go back to bed. I was too amped up! I noodled around on my laptop, and then I heard Mr. Ladyfingers get up.
He walked to the linen closet and grabbed a ball cap. This is where things get super embarrassing: I asked him, “What are you doing?!” Well, really I snapped this at him. I like my quiet time, and I’m awfully crabby when it gets interrupted. I need to work on this.
Smirking, he said he was too excited, too. He didn’t want to go back to sleep.
Then he put on a hooded sweatshirt, and walked over to his laptop bag.
“I have a present I want to give you now, though.”
I got REALLY NERVOUS and pretended like I had no clue what was going down.
“Oh yeah? Why… you, you don’t have to do that.”
He apparently slyly moved the ring box from his laptop bag – where it had been for a WEEK as he told ALL our friends and showed it off for days!! – into his hoodie pocket, walked over, and nervously said, “Baby, will you marry me?” as he got down on one knee.
And my response? “SHUT UP! ARE YOU JOKING?”
How 99% of my friends found out we were engaged — the Facebook mobile upload picture
Of course I said yes, and the rest of the day was so special, as my dad and his fiancée came over to celebrate Christmas Eve and our engagement. He later told me that he didn’t want to do it on Christmas Day because that was its own day. He wanted this to be special.
Well, it certainly was.
My first photo as an engaged lady. Because I like to keep it classy.
I love reading engagement stories – what about yours? Was it at home? On a special day? And did you, like me, make a mockery of your relationship by champing at the bit to get that ring on your finger? Gosh I hope so. It would make me feel so much better about myself.