My Most Memorable Engagement

I got to thinking the other day, "You know what? I don't think I've ever told the whole truth {and nothing but the truth} about when Chuck asked me to be his wife. That's a funny story. . . why haven't I told it?"

And then I remembered.

It's because it's not what you would call "typical" and I didn't want to traumatize anyone with my human-ness. Chuck's performance was flawless; it was me that was t-r-o-u-b-l-e.

But the time has come, my friends. . . the truth must be set free.

. . . .

The odds are good that if you're reading this, you're female {can I get a "whoop-whoop" for my male readers? I luff you. Don't click away in shame}. And if you are indeed female, odds are good that you've imaged the perfect proposal. You may have even HAD the perfect proposal.

You know the kind. . .


{photo source}

After a romantic and delicious meal, the happy couple goes to some romantic venue and mulls around for a while. The man probably hopes he remembered to put on deodorant because he's beginning to sweat through his shirt. . . but that part of the story never gets told, so what am I doing?! Back to the picture perfect proposal: The woman lets lose a feminine gasp and tears well up in her eyes when she sees the love of her life get down on one knee and pop open the little box. She possibly even throws her delicate-and-perfectly-manicured hand over her mouth to help hold in the joy.

I think I clamped my hand over my mouth, but it was to hold in something a little bit different. :)

I can't get ahead of myself, though. Let's go back to the "romantic and delicious meal" part and start there.

It was early February in Logan and I had been sick for at least 2 weeks when Chuck surprised me by driving up for a visit in the middle of the week {His work schedule was wacky back then and his days off weren't always on the weekends}. We hung out in my apartment for a little while and I kept asking him, "Are you sure you're okay? You're acting kind of funny." Because, let's face it, he was trying to be all chill but something was buzzing under the surface. . . I just couldn't put my finger on what it was. We humm-ed and haa-ed about where to go get some grub because nothing sounded good to me. . . Cafe Rio won out in the end.

After eating the most lackluster Cafe Rio either of us had ever put past our chompers, Chuck asked if I wanted to go for a drive up to a picturesque dam in Logan Canyon, creatively coined "First Dam". I still wasn't feeling 100%, so I agreed without suspicion. I was just happy to be out of the house with my honey!

I didn't even get the least bit suspicious when he started patting his coat pockets only minutes after arriving at the dock. He claimed he left his phone in the truck and I believed him. He made sure to specify that I WAIT. HERE. while he went and got it and I just nodded dumbly.

"Just wait here, ok? Don't come with me. Wait here while I go get my phone."

{Not fishy at all}

"Okay," I said like a mindless zombie as I watched the ducks swarm the area in hopes of free food.

He came back from the truck with this:



He said that it was an early Valentine's Day present {Feb 10} and I believed him without skepticism. None at all. I just got flowers--- how much better could it get?

I was ooooooh-ing over how beautiful they were for the next couple of minutes and became rather confused when Chuck pointed out how severely the flower in the middle was flawed.  "It's way too long, babe. Let's fix it so it blends in with the others."

"No, I like it."

"It's bugging me. We'll just snap the stem off so it's not so long."

"No way."

I clutched the vase closer to my chest and prepared to close line Chuck if he attempted to start snapping things.

He gave up trying to convince me and stood there forlornly. He was undoubtedly thinking, "NOW what do I do?! She's ruining my proposal over a stupid flower! Do I keep arguing with the stubborn woman and make her mad at me or do I just wait and see if she figures it out?"

Thankfully for him, I started fiddling with the bow you can see tied around the long-stemmed rose. That's when I saw it.

He had tied the separate band {the part of the ring you wear only after marriage} into the ribbon.



I remember being so confused at first. What in the world was that thing? In my ignorance, I figured it was just part of the knot. . . some fancy piece of silver used to secure the ribbon.

If Chuck would have stood around waiting for me to put the puzzle pieces together, we would STILL be there. Thankfully, he took advantage of my stupor and got down on one knee, pulling out the ring box and popping it open.



And that's when it happened.

That's when I took all those "perfect proposal moments" that women dream about and threw them into the lake.

Instead of gasping and tearing up, I gracefully let fly the phrase {brace yourselves}:

"Oh my freakin' hell." 

Yup. That's verbatim, folks.

I can't recall the sweet words he uttered as he asked me to be his for time and all eternity, but I can certainly remember with vivid detail how the shock of seeing him on his knee with my dream ring in his hand had made me terrifically unfeminine. Apparently, I swear when I'm surprised. Who knew?

Now, let's all just take a moment to appreciate how Chuck's reaction to my little outburst was to laugh a little and keep going with his proposal. That was the first time he had heard a cuss word come from my lips and he could have been appalled. He could have thrown in the towel and left me in a cloud of dust and diesel exhaust. He could have made me even more horrified at myself by laughing like a hyena for 30 minutes. But, no. He slipped the ring on my frozen finger and kissed me.

I guess he took the profanity as a good sign. . . which it most certainly was.



. . . .

So let's be sure that the record shows that I snagged myself a complete stud-muffin who is perfect for me in every way. We are able to laugh with each other about the silly things that have happened to us thus far, and we're able to stick together through the not-so-silly things.

And to think it all got started on that freezing day after a mediocre meal and an embarrassingly clumsy proposal acceptance. . .

Miracles do happen, folks!



P.S. I am pleased to announce that I did ultimately save that long-stemmed rose from being dismembered with my obstinance. So he's probably thankful, at least.