Weddingbee

It was another grey and humdrum day when I became a bride-to-be. I would like to say it was a “dark and stormy night,” but it really wasn’t an anything sort of day, weather wise. It was grey, and would have been utterly depressing except for the fact that it was Mr. Shortcake’s birthday!

Hooray for birthdays! Boo for realizing you’re that much closer to being “OLD”!

We didn’t have anything planned, really. He came over, we set up a joint bank account online in preparation for our moving in together, and generally acted as if we were retired 70 year olds with no energy. We were lazing on the bed together, exhausted from all that mouse-clicking and staring at the ceiling, when suddenly Mr. Shortcake asked,

“Where’s your dad?”

That was out of the blue, but suddenly I knew just what was going on…he wanted to ask my father for permission to marry me!

Now, before anyone asks for tarot readings, let me clarify -I’m not psychic. Mr. Shortcake had let it slip at his birthday party a couple days earlier that his actual birthday was going to be a “SPECIAL day” and something in his voice clued me in that maybe, just maybe, it really was going to be special. That morning I was so certain that “today was the day” that I even used my extra special cupcake body wash. (”Ooooooooooh!” you say, and rightly so, that’s SUPER special)

This much deduced, I excused myself to go to the washroom, and fiddled with my hair for ages, hoping that he would use the opportunity to run downstairs and ask Dad. However, when I came back to my bedroom, there he was, still hanging out on the bed. I lay down, now antsy and annoyed.

Mr. Shortcake got up, and kneeled by the side of the bed….

…and started to talk about things we still needed to get when we arrived in our new home. Dishes, cleaning supplies, the list went on, but when he started getting red-faced and nervous around “vaccuum” I knew exactly what was happening.

WOAH.

Now I was getting nervous as he continued.

..a lawnmower….dish soap….detergent…

And finally he came to the end of his list, and told me I could “I could cross something off” now.

I nervously joked back, “What, did you get another Magic Bullet?” Mr. Shortcake shook his head, and fumbled for something in his pocket. He turned around, still on his knees by the side of my bed, and pulled out

A ring.

WOAH.

Even more surprising was the fact that I, dropper-of-tears-at-every-opportunity, didn’t cry - not a bit! He asked me to marry him, I said yes, and kissed Mr. Shortcake and made him put it on my finger. The family dog, Buddy, took the opportunity to run away with the empty ring box

And when we finally got it back, we ran downstairs to tell my parents, then drove to his house to tell his, and to phone every relative in his mother’s phone book.

My engagement ring video. Because every ring deserves a movie without a plot (but tons of drama).

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