Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend
You can read in the previous two posts about my stressful Wednesday and Thursday last week. As a result, my boyfriend, Dale, decided to end my week on a happier note. He proposed on Friday, and, of course, I accepted! Now let me back up and explain....
We had been talking for a couple of months already about getting married. We met in February, and we started dating in March, but we knew that the other was "The One" early in the relationship. Dale had gone to a jeweler's shop several weeks ago and had a ring custom made for me. When he called a few days before my birthday, they told him that the ring wasn't ready yet. Dale had hoped to propose on our romantic weekend getaway, but it didn't work out that way.
Fast-forward to Wednesday night, when I tell him about the firebombing. He's upset for me, and wants to do something to make me feel better. Thursday morning Dale called the jeweler, and was then told that the head goldsmith was on vacation, and they were backed up with orders. He explained that he was supposed to have had the ring the previous week, so the girl says she'll talk to the manager and call him back. Around 6:00 pm the girl calls Dale and says that they rushed the ring, and it's ready for him. The shop is too far away for him to go that evening, so Dale gets up early Friday morning to work a full 8 hours by 3:30 pm. It takes him 80 minutes to get there, and when he does, there is a sign on the shop's door: "We are closing at 5:00 pm today, August 4." (Ordinarily they're open until 7:00 pm.) Dale looks at his watch -- it's 4:50 pm. He gets the ring and drives home, which only takes him 30 minutes this time.
It's now 5:30 pm, and Dale calls my parents' house. My mom answers, and Dale says that he thinks it's time to make "that call." My dad isn't home from work yet, but Mom says she'll have him call my boyfriend as soon as he gets there. Dale hangs up the phone and starts packing for the weekend... and pacing... and packing... and pacing. My mom hangs up the phone and starts making a salad for dinner... and pacing... and making a salad... and pacing. My dad, meanwhile, stops to fuel his car on the way home, not knowing that he's keeping people waiting.
Finally my dad arrives, and my mom tells him what's going on. He calls Dale, who answers the phone, "Hello?" "NO!" my dad yells into the receiver. Before Dale can gather his wits about him, my dad says, "I think that's the wrong answer, because Barb [my mom] is hitting me." They have their conversation, and my dad gives us his blessing. Dale hangs up the phone, jumps in the shower, and drives up to see me.
Friday night we have a weekly ritual: we go to a sushi restaurant for dinner. We went to my favorite place and had a great meal. Then we went home and watched the end of a baseball game on TV. Around 11:00 pm I said that I was tired and wanted to go to bed -- I had had a very stressful week, after all. When I got to the bedroom, there was a square dark green box in the middle of my bed. Dale was standing in the doorway, so I looked at him -- he said nothing. I sat on the bed and looked at him -- he said nothing. I opened the box, took out the ring box, and looked at him -- he said nothing. I opened the ring box and looked at him -- he said nothing. I took the ring out of the box and looked at him -- he finally said, "Will you marry me?" I think my response was, "Well, yeah!" (with lots of attitude). 'Cause the whole time I'm thinking, "Are you going to say something?!"
Since it was so late on Friday night, we waited to call our families until Saturday. I called my parents on my dad's cell phone. When he answered, "Hello?" I responded, "What do you mean, 'NO'?!" My dad laughed and laughed. The rest of our families enjoyed hearing Dale's story about the phone call, too. Everyone has been very happy for us so far, which has been great.
I'll write more later about the plans we're making. Stay tuned!
We had been talking for a couple of months already about getting married. We met in February, and we started dating in March, but we knew that the other was "The One" early in the relationship. Dale had gone to a jeweler's shop several weeks ago and had a ring custom made for me. When he called a few days before my birthday, they told him that the ring wasn't ready yet. Dale had hoped to propose on our romantic weekend getaway, but it didn't work out that way.
Fast-forward to Wednesday night, when I tell him about the firebombing. He's upset for me, and wants to do something to make me feel better. Thursday morning Dale called the jeweler, and was then told that the head goldsmith was on vacation, and they were backed up with orders. He explained that he was supposed to have had the ring the previous week, so the girl says she'll talk to the manager and call him back. Around 6:00 pm the girl calls Dale and says that they rushed the ring, and it's ready for him. The shop is too far away for him to go that evening, so Dale gets up early Friday morning to work a full 8 hours by 3:30 pm. It takes him 80 minutes to get there, and when he does, there is a sign on the shop's door: "We are closing at 5:00 pm today, August 4." (Ordinarily they're open until 7:00 pm.) Dale looks at his watch -- it's 4:50 pm. He gets the ring and drives home, which only takes him 30 minutes this time.
It's now 5:30 pm, and Dale calls my parents' house. My mom answers, and Dale says that he thinks it's time to make "that call." My dad isn't home from work yet, but Mom says she'll have him call my boyfriend as soon as he gets there. Dale hangs up the phone and starts packing for the weekend... and pacing... and packing... and pacing. My mom hangs up the phone and starts making a salad for dinner... and pacing... and making a salad... and pacing. My dad, meanwhile, stops to fuel his car on the way home, not knowing that he's keeping people waiting.
Finally my dad arrives, and my mom tells him what's going on. He calls Dale, who answers the phone, "Hello?" "NO!" my dad yells into the receiver. Before Dale can gather his wits about him, my dad says, "I think that's the wrong answer, because Barb [my mom] is hitting me." They have their conversation, and my dad gives us his blessing. Dale hangs up the phone, jumps in the shower, and drives up to see me.
Friday night we have a weekly ritual: we go to a sushi restaurant for dinner. We went to my favorite place and had a great meal. Then we went home and watched the end of a baseball game on TV. Around 11:00 pm I said that I was tired and wanted to go to bed -- I had had a very stressful week, after all. When I got to the bedroom, there was a square dark green box in the middle of my bed. Dale was standing in the doorway, so I looked at him -- he said nothing. I sat on the bed and looked at him -- he said nothing. I opened the box, took out the ring box, and looked at him -- he said nothing. I opened the ring box and looked at him -- he said nothing. I took the ring out of the box and looked at him -- he finally said, "Will you marry me?" I think my response was, "Well, yeah!" (with lots of attitude). 'Cause the whole time I'm thinking, "Are you going to say something?!"
Since it was so late on Friday night, we waited to call our families until Saturday. I called my parents on my dad's cell phone. When he answered, "Hello?" I responded, "What do you mean, 'NO'?!" My dad laughed and laughed. The rest of our families enjoyed hearing Dale's story about the phone call, too. Everyone has been very happy for us so far, which has been great.
I'll write more later about the plans we're making. Stay tuned!
posted by Pupcake | 2:08 PM
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