This blog gets way too focused on a few topics -- perhaps because I am a monomaniac -- but I do have occasional hopes to shift that. So, in the hopes of changing my tone now and then, and because I'm still too befuddled by a head cold to finish up any of the posts I've been working on this week, have another old scarp of Hornswogglery.
Back in 2000, there was a thread on the Straight Dope Message Board about how various folks there had given or received wedding proposals. And this was my story -- all dates accurate only through nine years ago:
We'd been dating for about five years (including college, so it's not quite as bad as that sounds), and the not-yet-Mrs. Hornswoggler had been dropping increasingly large hints and starting "where is this relationship going" conversations. I'm a real stickler for doing things "right" (which is whatever I irrationally think is the way things must be done), so I didn't want to officially become engaged without having the ring and everything. (She, on the other hand, would have been perfectly happy with a commitment from me.)
So, I manage to save up some money from my low-paying editorial job, make a down payment on a ring, and plan to give it to her on her birthday. But the ring is ready a week early, so I pick it up then. La Contessa and I were going to the New York Renaissance Faire that Saturday (some friends worked there), and I brought the ring with me.
Halfway through the day, we're sitting and resting on a hay bale in the shade, and I can't wait any longer. So I pull out the ring and give it to her. I was so nervous (so she tells me; I don't have any real memory myself) that what I said was "this is for you." She was deliriously happy, but did have to prod me into actually saying something in the form of a question.
We run back to show the friends the ring, and she starts sneezing violently. Turns out that she's allergic to hay (and had mostly forgotten, since she's in its vicinity about once every decade or so), and spent the rest of the day beaming and snuffling.
We got married about a year and a half later (I told her I didn't even want to plan a date until I had the ring paid off). It will be seven years in May, and we've got a 2-year-old son, so I think things worked out pretty well.
1 comment:
We dated for six years (including college), had two kids, married for almost thirteen years...and now we're getting divorced.
I guess what I'm saying is, you can't ever rest on your laurels.
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