I had driven that route so many times, it was as routine as brushing my teeth. Yet somehow, that alternate version of me, the one whose nerves were tied together tighter than a boy scout’s slipknot, drove right past the exit for my girlfriend’s house!
On any other night, a 20-minute detour would’ve been nothing more than a minor annoyance. But not on this night. Not with my soon-to-be fiancée waiting patiently for my arrival and my marriage proposal — in the form of a 40-page fairy tale picture book that I had written over a period of four months — staring at me from the passenger seat as if to say, “Bet you’ll back out!” No, this mishap felt more like flubbing your lines in the school play and then falling off the stage for good measure!
Adding to the drama was the reality that she knew I was coming to propose. Two months earlier, she had shown me the ring she wanted. One month earlier, we had planned for this particular weekend to be a “special weekend.” And one week earlier, I had asked for her father’s permission. So, by the time I finally arrived at her house, her feathers were just as ruffled as mine. Still, I knocked on the door, pretended everything was normal, and told her I had something to show her. Anticipating the ring, she cocked a teasing half-smile and taunted, “I don’t want to see it!” To which I replied, “Oh yes you will” and unceremoniously handed her the book. Her half-smile quickly morphed into bewilderment — my plan was working! To further combat her mockery of the situation, I explained how hard I had worked writing it and demanded that she begin reading it while I attend to the bathroom (often the first room I visited in her house after the hour and a half drive). Little did she know, my purpose for visiting the John was not the usual one.
The book was about a princess who had a very hard time finding a suitable prince. I cut out pictures from a Snow White picture book for some added charm, using Snow White for my fiancée, the seven dwarfs for the various suitors who could not measure up and Prince Charming for myself (naturally). While in the bathroom, I hid the last page of the book, on which Prince Charming proposes to Snow White on bended knee, behind a radiator across from the toilet.
The scene was set. There was no turning back now. Back in her bedroom, I waited patiently for her to reach the missing last page. At that point, I could have easily one-upped her ribbing with a drawn-out game of “hot and cold”, except that she was too strong-willed to accept such badgering and I was too invested in the moment to let it linger. So, I directed her to the bathroom, asked her to sit on her throne (suitable only for a princess!), pulled out the last page from behind the working radiator (not realizing I could have easily started a fire) and nervously handed it to her. As she read the words “Will you marry me?” I quickly pulled out the ring from my pocket, got down on one knee and asked her to marry me while she was still sitting on the toilet!
As silly as the scene must have looked, the thing that stood out the most was how quickly she said “yes” without even looking at the ring. I knew then, and have been further validated in the nine years since, that all of our experiences in life, good, bad, and in-between, would be met with a mixture of love, loyalty, and laughter, with a dash of irreverence sprinkled in.
Jarod and Jennifer Gilman
