Bling, bling, I got the ring: Our proposal story...

The comments under June 26th

My future husband (FH? kept my engagement ring in a shoe in his closet (Duh...of course we have separate closets.) nearly a month and a half before he proposed.  (I know, WTF, I could have NEVER kept a secret that long.)  This was because we had a friend whose 2 week stay turned into a 2 month stay and because My FH waited nearly a decade (FOR REALZ, in January of 2011, it will be TEN YEARS.) to propose he wanted the proposal to be just right, which is how the ring ended up in his (Size 14) shoe (And you know what they say about big feet...HA!).  So we planned a trip to my parent’s house in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania a weekend in mid-June 2010.  The FH's original plan consisted of stopping in Shippensburg, where we both went to college and popping the question in front of the little pink house (It was really little and pink and had white trim and white shutters.) where I lived when we started dating.  However his plans were foiled when I invited my friend, and our houseguest, to travel home with us.  Needless to say it worked out because it gave him the opportunity to officially ask my dad to marry me.  (He didn't catch the memo that this is sort of like engagement code with dad's and daughters.)

Convo. with Mama that am.

Another week or two went by and our friend finally moved out, but this time school was out and my graduate school projects and papers began consuming my daily life.  I was constantly with my friend Kitty (Meow!) doing schoolwork or just hanging out;  my poor FH couldn’t get me by myself.  After several attempts to take me to lunch or take me to dinner (Good restaurants too!), and me ALWAYS bringing along a friend, he gave up and made the choice to propose one Saturday morning (I am NOT a morning person, so this was GREAT planning on his part).  He decided that at that hour of the day there would be no way that anyone else would be around and he was right!

My FH got up early that Saturday morning, around six.  Anyone who knows me knows I can sleep through a hurricane, therefore my slumber was uninterrupted.  However, for some reason that morning I slept lighter than usual.  At 7:03 I heard my FH’s knees cracking as he walked up the stairs and he shut our bedroom door.  I thought it was odd because our room gets SUPER hot (I loathe being hot, absolutely loathe it.) if you shut the door.  Nevertheless I fell back asleep, but not for long.  I re-awoke at 7:08 to banging around in the kitchen.  (I literally thought he was purposely throwing pots and pans to get me out of bed.)  I sent him a text message, as he was downstairs and I didn’t want to scream, to ask what he was doing.  He replied that he was cleaning and letting me sleep in.  (Yeah right, HIDEOUS liar.)  I didn’t buy it; so I texted him again and asked if he was making breakfast.  (Which is something he has done a few times in the past.)  This time I got no response.  So I decided to get up.  Just as I got to the top of the steps my FH came running around the corner and was all flustered.  (At this point, I could barely contain myself, I swear I knew, not sure how, but I swear.)  He instructed that I stay upstairs and "GO BACK TO BED!"  I could barely hide my ear-to-ear grin, but I did what he asked and went back into our room.

I couldn’t decide if I should get up and shave my legs, brush my teeth, wash my face, or put on make-up.  I didn’t want him to think I was on to him so I opted to stay in bed and try to read (Pretend read, I can't even tell you the book that was in my hand.) to no avail.  Nearly an eternity (More like 20 minutes.) passed and I heard his knees (Blew out BOTH knees during football once we started dating...yikes.) cracking as he came up the stairs with our dog (Baby Reese) following closely behind.  At this point I was lying at the foot of the bed, tangled up in the sheets, messy bun of hair (Similar to a Sumo-wrestlers style.) on top of my head, morning breath and all and in walks my FH.  He is carrying a cafeteria style tray (That funky brown color) holding his home-cooked breakfast in bed, complete with a fanned out strawberry garnish.  There were two Gerbera daisies (Which was the first bouquet of flowers he had ever given me.) at the top of the tray and I scoured the plate for the ring and it wasn’t there.  (What was there was about a pound of bacon, LITERALLY a cup of syrup, orange juice, and a stack of pancakes.)  While I was looking for the bling, my FH was getting down on his knee and said, “there is one thing missing from this ,” and he reached in his pocket and pulled out a box.  He handed the box to me and said, “I love you and I am sorry that this probably isn’t the grand proposal you had hoped for, but it was the best I could do, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, will you marry me?”  And I said yes!  (Scratch that, I said "Are you f*cking kidding me?  Are you serious? Omg.")
Bling, bling and my ring, ring.
XO.
Terra

One of my Gerbera daisies and my bling