So on Christmas Eve, before going to church, the Boyfriend and I decided to open our Christmas presents. I got him a watch and a coin counter (he is obsessed with counting his change) and he got me a packet of gift slips to the car wash, a digital camera, and an electric can opener. You have NO IDEA how excited I was about my new electric can opener. I have broken about five hand can openers in the past six months. And they weren't all cheap ones from the dollar store either.
So now I need you to imagine the setting for our story. Me, sitting at the foot of the tree, messing with my new presents and making the BF take pictures of me with my new stuff. The BF, seemingly annoyed that I won't stop talking about my new can opener so he can get a word in.
"I have one more thing for you," the BF says. He pulls a little box out from under the couch. He gets down on one knee. (I was sitting on the floor so even with him kneeling, his six-foot-four frame towers over me.) He opens the box. "Will you marry me?"
Now I have thought about this day for awhile now. I thought about what I would say and what I would do. I didn't know exactly what I would do but I knew that I would handle the situation with such grace and poise, that Emily Post would have to reference this day in her etiquette books for years to come.
But instead I sit there. And I let that nervous hulk of a man sit there. Waiting. While I look at him and then the ring and then him and then the ring.
And then finally I manage to choke out "yes" reminding myself not to get hysterical because my make up would run and we had a party to go to after church.
Then he says "it is my grandmother's diamond." Screw you Emily Post! I start bawling.
It is weird. Although I was expecting this sometime in the near future, the whole thing was still so stunning and surreal. It was like a dream where you feel like you have control over yourself but you really don't because you are dreaming.
So this is just a warning that for an undefined period of time there will be A LOT of posts about weddings. Oh and the BF is no longer a BF. He is the FH.
Here's to happy planning!