People tend to have a look of disappointment when they ask for the "proposal story". They don't look satisfied with my answer, as if they wanted something more from my telling of it, fireworks, top of the empire state building, maybe a live televised feed from times square with a national audience.
Two years ago, I knew I was about to get engaged. I didn't know when, but I knew it was going to happen soon. On April 8, 2009 I came home, made dinner, put pj's on, and sat down for a night of watching the Mets game. I had not forgotten about the ring that I knew had been purchased, but was certainly not thinking of it as I got up from the couch to move to the computer to check some e-mail. At the desk I said, "I'm going to call Christina". I picked up the cell, heard Gary Cohen shout "it's out of here" on the tv, and when I turned around to look, Mike was on one knee with this sweet smile and the ring held up between two fingers. I made some sort of yelp-like noise, shut the cell phone as he said, "Cait, will you marry me?". I remember thinking it was funny that he sounded nervous. He had told me he wanted to marry me after six months of dating nearly seven years prior to proposing, yet his voice was shaking when he got the words out.
After I said yes, we sat on the couch, curled up in each other watching the end of the Mets game, and stayed like that for a half hour before making the first phone call to my mom, who responded by nearly blowing out our ear drums with squeals. So it's not the proposal story the masses want to hear, but it's ours, and it fits us, and who really wants a story to please the masses anyway.
p.s I am aware that I now have two posts this week that are fixated on dates. I'm a history buff, what can I say, dates matter.
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