I got so excited about sharing my planning with the hive, I nearly forgot the most important part—the proposal!
I love hearing proposal stories, even those of complete strangers. I used to watch A Wedding Story on TLC in college and tear up like a little creep in my dorm room while I ate oodles of noodles. Anyone else? Just me? OK, moving on.
Mr. Jet and I talked about “forever” pretty early on in our relationship, and we even moved in together after only 11 months of dating. We adopted our fur-baby Bruce and had settled in quite nicely into a little family groove. After four years of said groove, I felt like I wanted to take the next step. I talked to Mr. Jet about the idea of marriage, and we both felt strongly that we were ready for the commitment. Being the psycho, type-A that I am, of COURSE I had to physically. show. him. exactly. what. I. wanted. for. a. ring. Subtle, I am not.
We shopped around and within a few months, Mr. Jet had the ring in pocket—er, in “guitar case” as I later found out.
A few weeks after Mr. Jet admitted to having the ring “somewhere hidden in our apartment,” I was packing up for a two-week business trip to China. We went to dinner alone that night—no ring. We finished packing my suitcase and hugging it out—no ring. As I was on my way to bed, and figuring at that point it wasn’t P-Day, I told Mr. Jet that I was a little relieved he didn’t propose before I left for the trip—imagine how hard it would be to be proposed to then shipped off to a foreign country for two weeks with NO cell phone and NO Facebook?! (Oh, the horror.)
After a very pregnant pause, Mr. Jet revealed that he was going to propose at the airport in just a few hours when he dropped me off for the trip.
He quickly added that he had another, better idea for later down the road, but it was too late—I was already in tears claiming, “I RUINED IT! I RUINED EVERYTHING! I AM LITERALLY THE WORST!” (Is anyone else noticing my uncanny resemblance to Lucy van Pelt??)
Thankful for Mr. Jet’s uncanny ability to talk me down from any ledge, I finished packing and the we arrived at Logan Airport the next morning before dawn.
As we hugged goodbye, Mr. Jet told me I hadn’t ruined anything at all—and that I was far from the worst.
No matter the conversation the night before, Mr. Jet was determined to send me off to China as his fiancée—come hell or high (tearful) water! I, obviously, said yes and spent the next two weeks without a phone or Facebook to share the news. (THERE IS NO FACEBOOK IN CHINA, HOW AWFUL IS THAT?!) I did manage to send out a quick text and photo to my close friends and family:
“Sorry kids, I’m officially off the market!”
So that’s the story of how the Jets got engaged. I’ll tell ya, it was so very “us” and so very fitting to both of our personalities. He’ll spend the rest of his life making me take a step back and appreciate every moment—even those in the drop-off lane at Logan Airport—and I’ll spend the rest of mine apologizing for ruining the surprise, but loving how it turns out anyway.