Weddingbee Blog

Miss any of the exciting action?  Check out Part I here!

So, Mr. Biscuit had ordered the ring. The next step? Ask my father! I know this is a kind of antiquated ritual, but Mr. B wanted to do it. He also didn’t want me to tell anybody. Riiiiiiight.

The day we had started looking for rings, I told my sister. Oops, messed that one up already, huh?

Truth be told, I was completely bursting and couldn’t wait two weeks for the ring to come in, so I told everyone the good news. Seriously, I should have started wearing a sandwich board around; it would have made it easier on my vocal chords.

Eventually, I ran out of random people on the street to tell, so I told my mother. She was excited, in her own special Mother Biscuit way.

I did try to keep it a secret from my father, though, as per Mr. B’s wishes. The day after I told my mother, while I was in endodontics lab diligently attempting to extract a nerve from a tooth, my father approached me (Because yes, my father taught me a class in dental school. It was only a little bit weird.) and asked if we were coming over tonight so Mr. B could ask him a VERY special question. Somewhere there was a leak in private information. After constructing a flow chart, it was pretty easy to figure out where this leak occurred.

We did come over for dinner that evening, but I didn’t tell Mr. Biscuit that my father knew what was going on. I probably should have because my father had the best idea ever to get Mr. Biscuit alone so he could ask. He took him down to our basement to show him a new gun he bought. My father collects guns and knives. I think it’s to compensate for the abundance of estrogen in the house. Even my parents’ dogs are female. He keeps the militia all locked up and gets super excited when any guy comes over because he can show them his collection and they may actually care. My mother, my sister, and I aren’t really that enthused by such purchases.

Anyway, I don’t what he was thinking, but he seemed to truly expect Mr. Biscuit to ask for my hand in marriage while they were looking at my father’s gun collection. Clearly, he did not.

So now things were awkward. Everyone knew Mr. Biscuit had bought a ring, but we all had to pretend that we didn’t. This awkwardness continued for two and a half weeks, until Mr. Biscuit had actually picked up the ring. He admitted that he felt weird asking my dad, though he still wanted to, so I finally told him that my father had known about it the whole darned time.

And now everyone, including Mr. Biscuit, felt awkward and embarrassed.

Armed with the realization that everyone knew about the stinking engagement for the past month, Mr. Biscuit drove me to my parents’ house. While I stole borrowed one of my sister’s sweaters for the evening, I overheard Mr. Biscuit tell my father, “So, I think you’ve already heard about this, but I bought Miss Biscuit a ring. Is that OK?” To which my father retorted, “Uh, yeah, that sounds fine to me.” As you can see, it was truly an emotional moment between my father and his future son-in-law.

Once the formalities were over, we prepared to leave my parents’ house. As we were leaving, my father asked us to come back to the house so he could see my ring. Way to exacerbate the awkward even more. He really clinched the loving, memorable moment by mentioning to Mr. Biscuit with a huge smirk on his face, “Congratulations. She’s your problem now.” You can see where I get my wit, huh?

Mr. Biscuit and I left, red faced, and ran back to his house before going out to eat. I went to change coats and, while I was doing so, he sneak attacked me and gave me the ring. Neither of us really remembers what he said, but we both agree it was something pretty lame like, “I love you. I hope you’ll marry me.”

And then we rode off into the sunset in a land full of rainbows, unicorns, and shooting stars. Or, we drove to our local brew pub and I ate a Greek chicken sandwich and drank a few beers. You decide which one you think happened. Here’s a hint: it looked nothing like a Lucky Charms box.

Does anyone else have interesting non-romantic proposal stories? Am I the only one with the awkward turtle of a proposal?