With this little box...

Lately, it seems that I spend my slow weekends here at the 'ole blog just making fun of my husband.  Works for me!  So here's this week's installment of My Husband is a Big Old Dork.

If you've gotten to a point in your relationship where you know a ring and a proposal are on their way, try not to listen to a single word that his friends say.

Once my guy signed his life away to the military, right before our junior year in college, we started seriously talking about getting married.

I knew that his step-sister was a jewelry designer, and she had offered to help him design a ring (and get a heaping discount) when the time came, so I knew that he had that part handled.

By November, his friends started telling me things.  "He's going to ask you in uniform," they would tell me.  "He's got big plans," they would say.  I figured they had talked to him about it and had the inside line.

On November 13, 1993 we had a Dining Out to attend.  A Dining Out is sort of like a Military Ball, but it has a bunch of traditions and forced drinking from a grog bowl that make it a little less formal.

Well, my husband had to go to the hall early to help get things set up, and I was left to my own devices in his dorm room.  I took a shower in the men's room (always a fun experience) and was rushing around trying to get ready in time.

I opened up one of his drawers in search of tooth paste and I found a little black velvet ring box.  I slammed that drawer shut so fast it made the room shake.  Everything his friends had been telling me came racing back into my head.  And I just knew that this would be the night he'd ask me to marry him.

So I finished getting dressed and drove myself to the Dining Out.  Once he was all done getting set up, he made me go back outside, so that we could walk through the saber guard together.

Okay.  This is it.  He's going to stop under the arch of the sabers, get down on one knee and propose his ever lasting love.  Right?

Wrong.

We walked right through and started mingling.  (Incidentally, that's when he told a commander's wife that I went to a "little girls' school."  How about a small, women's college, you big dork!)

The night progressed.  At one point, the MC announced that Cadet Tuna had a few important words to say, and my guy went on stage and took the mic.

Here it comes, I thought.  Oh lord.  This is more public than I expected from him.  Is this our special moment?

No.

He made some announcement about selling sweatshirts or something.  Argh.

And the night progressed.  Did he ask me after the awards?  No.  Did he propose on the dance floor?  No.  Did he even offer to buy me a drink?  No.  And I got more and more sullen as the evening wore on.  I was trying so hard not to be disappointed, but I just couldn't help it.

After we got in a fight about why I was in such a bad mood, I finally told him that I found the ring box, and that I had been expecting him to ask me.

"Oh," was all he said.

We drove back to his dorm in silence.  We went to his room to get changed before we headed to a party.  He took off his shoes, pants, and jacket and was standing there in his white uniform shirt with garters attached to his black socks.  (I'm sorry.  That's a dorky look on anyone.)  I asked him to unzip my dress.

While he was standing behind me he asked, "What color box did you find?"

"Black," I told him.

He opened the drawer, reached in and pulled out the black box.

This is it.  This is our moment.  I'd prefer it if I weren't half naked with my dress around my waist.  I'd prefer it if he weren't showing his sock garters.  But okay.  This is my--I mean--our moment.

I opened the box.  And it was empty.

Empty!

"You jerk!" I yelled and threw the box across the room.  I started to sob.  Talk about playing with my emotions.

"No!  No wait!" He panicked.  "I have another box."  He reached into the drawer again and pulled out a pink box.  He was still standing behind me, we were both still half dressed.

I opened the box and the ring was inside.  I couldn't stop crying.

"Are you going to say yes?"  he asked.

Through my tears I managed to tell him, "You haven't even asked me yet."

And so, half dressed, without even looking in my eyes (coward) my man popped the question.  And I have no idea what exactly it was that he said.  Who can remember with all the other drama?

Of course I said yes, but I never stopped crying.

We finally got dressed and went to the party.  One of his best friends made a wonderful toast to us, and that's my big romantic memory from my engagement night.  His friend saying romantic things about me.

The next day he chickened out about going to tell my parents with me.  I can't blame him for that.  I thought my father just might tell me, "no."

So for, let's see...eleven years now, I've been holding his blown proposal over his head.  I'm still waiting him for to make some grand gesture to make it up to me.  I have a feeling I'll be waiting a long time.