Back in August Pete and I got engaged. We'd been talking marriage forever. In the summer of 2010 he'd spoken to my family about his intentions and they'd given the go ahead. So of course my Mom then began to eagerly anticipate the "we're engaged!" phone call. Sorry, Mom. Pete claims ignorance to the usual timeline of events surrounding marriage proposals. More likely he just wanted things to happen on his OWN timeline.
Now that we're officially betrothed, I don't mind his cavalier attitude towards marriage-related expectations. But I'd be lying if I wasn't waiting anxiously for him to pop the ole question. Good lord, it was a long time coming! I went through a variety of stages - excited at the thought of spending our lives together, secretly planning our dream wedding, wondering when he'd ask, wondering when the hell he'd ask already!?, trying not to be annoyed that he'd gotten my hopes up (when in reality, I'd gotten my own hopes up), being totally annoyed that my hopes were up and now nothing, feeling over it, and finally just giving in. I know the man I chose. He isn't one to be pressured or cajoled or guilted into anything. Stubborn to the bone and slightly condescending of tradition. He had to arrive at the proposal when he was ready.
The night we sealed the deal I'd originally planned on being at a Bachelorette Camping Weekend. The second such weekend in as many weeks, with two weddings planned for the following two weekends. August '11 was wedding central up in here. I'd been drinking waaaay too much in Miami for Ali's bachelorette the weekend before and Hannah's camping weekend was being threatened by storms. I couldn't face the idea of two nights in a soaked tent so I bailed on Friday night and planned to head up with Chris the next day.
When I told Pete I'd actually be around on Friday night he was thrilled. "Let's go out to dinner" he suggested. That quickly changed to, "Let's go have a picnic!" I was all in. He was in charge and I was along for the ride. That Friday the storms did come as predicted but Pete was still dead-set on our picnic. (First twinge of "Oh my god. Is this it??? Wait. Stop that. Stop thinking that! Calm down"). Ok, so we'd find a place to picnic out of the rain. When he told me that he'd been thinking we could picnic at the Old Mill but there was a wedding there that night I knew something was up. How would he have known there was a wedding scheduled?? (Major alarm bells going off) Ok, I said, playing it cool.
We settled on the pavilion in Rose Tree Park and set off for our picnic. Pete was dressed up a little - wearing a polo shirt. He'd gotten everything together for our picnic. We sat and ate and chatted. We watched the rain and lightening. When the weather settled down a bit he took out his contact juggling ball to give me a little performance. I knew exactly what was going on at this point. He'd been carrying his baseball cap a little funny - there had to be a ring box in there! He distracted me by pointing to an airplane overhead and tucked the box into his pocket. As he juggled the outline of the ring box was totally obvious. I made the decision to wait, let him be in charge and let things play out whatever way he wanted. But oh my god was I ecstatic. Heart thumping, I got up to join him under a tree near the pavilion. He'd called me over to look at a little plaque commemorating somebody named Jennifer. I wasn't paying much attention to him - I'd gotten it into my mind that he was going to propose in the pavilion. So when I turned around and he was on one knee with a ring box open and asked, Will you marry me?, I was stunned. I stood there, gaping at him. "Please?" he asked, smiling. "Yes! Yes, yes, of course, yes!" I managed and there was hugging and laughing and kissing. I popped the pretty antique ring onto my finger and it was a perfect fit.* We finished the picnic, not caring that we'd gotten pretty wet and it was getting cold. Finally it was time to go home and begin making the long anticipated phone calls.
All this is meant as a reminder for me. It was a perfect night. I'd asked for a proposal that he'd put some thought into. I'd told him if he asked me to marry him on our couch I'd say no. I'm so happy with what he planned and executed. I love you, Petey.
*He was SHOCKED that the ring fit. During our many pre-engagement ring discussion he'd asked me for my ring size. So I printed something off the internet and sized the rings I wore daily. I also cut out a little slip of paper and wrapped it around my finger. My best guess was my ring size was between 8 and 8.5. The vintage ring Pete bought on Etsy was sized at 7.25. He'd almost asked the woman he bought it from to re-size it, but changed his mind. He'd brought along a silk cord for me to wear the ring on until we'd gotten it sized by a jeweler together. But it fit me! Moral of this story - get your ring finger sized by a jeweler. I trust the internet for almost anything, but go to an expert for that.
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