A friend of mine, Laura Hamby is having a contest to celebrate her first release—her novella, “Sukie’s Dance” will be published in the anthology Brides and Bouquets, from By Grace Publishing. :cheer:
For the contest, you email Laura with the details of that special moment when your hubby proposed.
Oh, it was special all right. Let me ghostwrite for you Shannon’s Husband’s Guide to Proposing to a Romance Writer:
1—Somewhere around Thanksgiving, plop that gift right on top of the entertainment center. Every girl worth her Barbies knows what a ring box looks like, even wrapped, and every day for the next month will be horrible, agonizing torture for her. You want to soften her up for the big event by driving her mad.
2–On December 23rd, let the romance writer negotiate her way into opening it early—family parties, etc, etc. She is good at excuses, after all. Then, for the rest of your natural life, still think you proposed on Christmas Eve. Women like excuses to roll their eyes at you.
3—When the moment comes, regress heavily into your taciturn, uncomfortable-with-emotions Yankee roots. If you’re not a Yankee, pretend. It’s very important that your expression say “I’d really rather be polishing the chrome on my bike.”
4—Watch your beloved’s shaking hands try to save the bow…and the tape…and the paper…and mutter “Just :censor: open the :censor: :censor: thing already!”
5—When she opens the lid, clear your throat and say in a tense voice “Well…do you want it?”
And there you have it. Be still my romantic soul.
Although, if he had hired a skywriter or gotten down on one knee, it would have been so out of character for him, I probably would have gotten confused and laughed at him.
Lest we think he’s a total emotional dud, however, you should see him with our boys. No manly throat clearing and back-clapping in our house. He totally, unabashedly adores his kids, and he makes sure he tells them each several times a day, and no matter what comes up in their lives, they know Dad’s in their corner. And when, at the end of the day, I watch my boys shoved in on either side of Dad in his recliner, either jabbering away or reading a story or watching TV, I never think Gee, I wish he’d buy me flowers.
Hey, it’s better than my story!
My husband has an accent so “Do you want to marry me” came out as “Are you mad at me”
And I said no.
He was stunned b/c we’d already discussed buying a ring and pretty much agreed we were going to get married.
Fortunately, we sorted it all out, but he often asks me “Are you mad at me” just to tease me. I always say,’no’ of course.:love:
I don’t have a story. I never got a proposal. No really, I didn’t. I got knocked up instead :neener: I guess he figured after that, I was a sure thing :rofl: It was all very practical- I needed health insurance. :crazy: I’m so romantic
You got your priorities right, Shan. He sounds like a winner, though I did :lmao: at your proposal story.
Mine is incredibly romantic. We were in St. Louis, having dinner at the restaurant where we’d shared our first romantic dinner together. The restaurant was in downtown St. Louis right in front of the Arch and the weekend before 4th of July.
As he got down on one knee, the fireworks started going off, lighting up the Arch in brilliant colors right outside our window. He asked me to marry him and of course I said yes.
Sigh. I’m such a sap for romance.
I proposed and wasn’t very creative in doing so. :shrug::shrug:
Awww, Shan, I think that’s incredibly memorable and frankly, that’s what counts.
Steven and I were at the beach one Wednesday evening in late July for a church event (We met for ‘teen night’ there once a week)–(and we were still only 17 at the time) and when the meeting was over, the sun was just setting, the departing rays painting the sky pink and blue, he got down on one knee and proposed.
I cried, threw my arms around him and of course, said yes. That was one of the FEW romantic moments of his life…
Mine proposed in front of a classroom of screaming 12 year olds. About 150 of them or so. 8th period, day before Spring Break started…:eyebrow:
I can still hear the screams if I close my eyes.
OMG, Michelle! I can’t imagine the poor man’s face! I’m very glad y’all got it sorted out, though.
But, Angie, you got that sweet, crawling lil cutie-pie, so it’s all good. (And a new house, too?)
Ann, if it was left up to me to propose, I wouldn’t be married at all. I could never get up the gumption. (Which is why I don’t make fun of my hubby’s proposal…too much.)
Steph! Did he just come to your classroom to propose? Did he work in the building? That’s awesome! I bet those kids remember it, too.
And leave it to Charlie and Steve. Fireworks…beaches…sunsets… :sigh:
Mine is not as romantic as the others’. Will and I were seeing each other for about seven months when we went to Las Vegas for a holiday with friends. On the morning of his birthday we were walking down a street – that place where it had a domed ceiling where airplanes zoomed over our heads – when I asked what he’d like for his birthday. A couple of hours later we left Cupid’s Chapel as a shell-shocked but very much married couple.
My favourite memory of that day is when we went to the county hall to get our licence to marry. Well, I have two memories from that moment: there was a woman, waiting in the queue, in a full wedding gown with her bridemaids around her. The groom was in full bridegroom outfit, too. That was a bit surreal. Second fave mem – we were at the counter where this lady typed up our licence on a real typewriter. She didn’t even look up when we handed in our passports. She took them from us, looked at them, and immediately started typing away. When she got to Will’s passport, she looked up and said, while the typewriter still clackering, in a very monotone voice: “Happy birthday, sir” and immediately looked down to her typewriter as if nothing happened. That got a big laugh out of me.
Are you kidding? VEGAS? That is SO cool!
And all he wanted for his birthday was to marry you.
Oh, that IS romantic, hon. :nod:
Um. I got married in Vegas, too. Big surprise. I live there.
I think mine’s the least romantic of all. I don’t remember a proposal. It was more of an agreement, I guess. My 90 days were running out and it was either get married or be deported. The wedding was in a dinky little chapel, and the minister wore snakeskin boots.
I do enjoy telling people we HAD to get married just to watch their eyes bug out as they assume it was for the same reason AngieW got married, though.
As usual, for DH and my relationship, my proposal was a power struggle :crazy: I’d already hinted to DH that I was going to propose to him out of a sense of contrariness. But he wanted to propose to me….
So we went out to Ennerdale Water and cooked a curry on a camping stove at a spot tucked up against this little crag, under a rowan tree. After dinner I proposed.
Then he proposed.
I refused, with narrowed eyes.
After much giggling and maneovering for the intellectual high ground, we just agreed to marry each other and be done with it.
We’ve been jostling for position on key issues ever since… :blah:
Love the proposal stories. :love: My wonderful spouse thought if we got our marriage license on Leap Day (we got married in Sept. of a Leap Year), then he’d only have to get me an anniversary prezzie once every 4 years. :eyebrow: Well, we did get our marriage license on Leap Day– after a discussion about how the anniversary is traditionally celebrated as the actual day a couple stands in the church, exchanging vows, and that he would therefore be required to purchase a prezzie every YEAR, instead of every 4.
Now ask me who buys her own anniversary prezzie every year. :shrug::lmao:
Leave it to a guy to think of that. :crazy:
Last year, after several years of limiting ourselves to cards (with the exception of my 10th anniversary band) we came to the mutual agreement that we’d both rather blow that money—cards are expensive!—on iced coffees. So we’ve reached the “kiss and ‘Happy Anniversary'” stage of marriage.
And congrats again, Laura! :thumb: