I have a deep appreciation for a good, romantic engagement story, with a well-executed plan leading to a stunned bride-to-be with a beautiful rock on her finger. However, that type of engagement is not for me. I just don’t like surprises. So much so that I’ll go to great lengths to ruin any prospective surprises rather than let them catch me off guard. My December engagement was no exception.
Chris and I designed the sapphire ring together at Henri David’s Halloween on Pine Street (more on that later in a future post!). Therefore, I was pretty sure when it was going to be ready and I was on high alert for Chris to make a trip to pick it up. This part was easy; Chris went “Christmas shopping” for a whole day and came back with no bags (Captain Obvious). The worst part was not only knowing that he had it, but also knowing where he had it (his school bag), and not peeking. I have to give myself a little credit for this one; I was on nightshift at the time so I spent my nights off alone, sitting awake staring at a certain school bag, and resisting looking inside. Self-restraint: 1, Ring: 0.
So, when was it going to happen? This was a little harder to figure out, but after careful analysis of our respective schedules, I saw that the only night we were mutually available was December 22nd, the night of our planned Christmas celebration together. The problem: Chris plays in a hockey league and had a playoff game late that night. So would the engagement come before or after his game? I thought it was pretty safe to assume he would do it after; he’s not really the type to propose and run.
Ok, so I knew he had the ring, I knew the date and estimated time, but how would he do it? This part, I just couldn’t figure out. I entertained many different scenarios, however. Ring tied to one of the cats? Probably not (but come on, how funny would that be?). Ring in my dessert? A delicious possibility, but a little messy. I thought he would go for the standard: ring in the pocket, wait for the right moment, and strike. Well, my detective-like skills on the rest of this engagement failed me. Chris ended up wrapping the ring up in my presents in a big jewelry box. He got me—and I’ll allow him that one surprise.
The only real kink in our engagement story was that it went down post hockey game … at about 1:45 in the morning. This was fine with me (nightshift), but probably not ideal for the people I called in my excitement (sorry!).
Well, I know you’re all very impressed with my CIA-level detective skills (or are maybe contemplating my need for therapy for these blatant control issues) but, overall, I’m very happy with my mostly surprise-less engagement story.
What about you? Anybody else sniff out their engagement surprise?