Mr. and Mrs. Soon-to-Be the B's 11/29/04
I wrote this shortly after Mark proposed marriage ten years ago today!
Mark's marriage proposal took me completely by surprise. Not that I hadn't been thinking lately that "maybe" Mark would propose "sooner or later" (in fact, that was what I'd recently started telling the well-intended friends who were beginning to pester me about it). But, I thought if he did propose, it'd be at Magnolia Grill (his favorite restaurant in Durham) on my birthday in December. Or, maybe as we began to celebrate our first Holiday Season together; or maybe even on Christmas Day at my parents' house in Ft. Wayne with the majority of my family present as witnesses.
And yes, I'll admit; I had started to wonder if maybe he wouldn't propose at all, at least not when I thought he would; that perhaps he'd wait another six months (or longer!)
So, I was getting all wrapped up in what might or might not happen; and, as such, I didn't see what did happen coming down the pike.
29 November 2004 had been a routine Monday afternoon in our household with Mark working from home and me starting to dredge up ideas for my lesson plan; this one on "The Skill of Speaking" for ESL.
I'd taken a shower late in the afternoon, which means Mark got to eye-ball his stinky sweetheart for the better part of the day. After getting cleaned up, I put on my not-so-very-sexy Victoria Secret jammies and my Monkey See and Monkey Do (over-sized, bright yellow and generally obnoxious looking) monkey-faced house slippers.
As an aside, this type of appearance is a definite no-no (or so we are told) for us gals who haven't yet got the Bling Bling on their finger.
I finished up my work for the evening and was thinking about starting dinner (Chicken Capri). I pattered off to the bedroom to pull my (clean but a tad unkempt) hair back into its constant ponytail and re-entered the kitchen prepared to cook. I was, in truth, in a bit of a funk as is typical of me this time of the month; starting the cycle of freaking out and fretting over "my future". Mark was standing next to the dishwasher, somewhat in my way as I felt an immediate need to put a dirty spoon into it; so I asked him (thankfully politely and in good form) to move by saying, "Excuse me, sweetie" while sort of nudging him out of the way.
Well, he moved, but not really as I had expected him to; as, in a deft and fluid motion, he pulled out a bouquet of (perfect) dozen red roses from behind his back with one hand, brought forward and snapped open a jewelry box containing a sparkling diamond solitaire with the other, and dropped to his knees in front of me asking, "Will you marry me?"
I know every girl remembers her marriage proposal and, as years go by, the story is often told and retold to girlfriends, relatives; maybe even to a child or two, among sighs of "Oh how romantic!" or, "Oh how sweet!"
When Mark proposed, two initial thoughts ran tripping over themselves through my befuddled, stunned brain; "Oh man, I just told him to get out of my way" and "Oh NO, I am wearing Monkey See and Monkey Do".
We all three said yes.
