Last weekend, Mr. W and I were sitting on the highest terrace in his backyard, drinking some nice Santa Ynez chardonnay and eating several varieties of cheese when I let the alcohol get the best of me and decided to pick his brain. Just for a minute...
"So...do you know how you're going to do it when you actually do it?" I asked with my biggest, sweetest doe eyes.
Readers, you totally know what I'm talking about here...
He took a gulp of wine and said, "Every time I start to think about a plan I feel so pressured. It has to be perfect."
"Who says it has to be perfect?"
"People. Everyone. It's this huge thing and you have to come up with the perfect way of asking because everyone's going to want to know 'how did he ask you'."
I felt terrible. That's a lot of pressure to be carrying around. And really—who made these rules? Who ARE these people that judge proposals and children's birthday parties and wedding receptions—oozing their opinions all over the place when it really all has nothing to do with them?
"Love, I could care less how you ask me. All that matters is that you do. And sooner would be better than later." Couldn't help myself on that last part.
"But everyone will be talking about how I did it and whether I did enough or did it right," he said defeated.
"Cupcake, my dad proposed to my mom in the bathroom. Not like while she was on the toilet or anything, but just randomly while she was getting ready to go out to dinner or something. And I love that story and I would be happy if you asked me in the exact same way—or any way at all. Just not when I look really ugly, like in the morning or anything..."
I should also note here that my sister wore a plastic zip-tie on her finger for a month while she waited for her ring to be made. We're pretty low maintenance gals in my family...albeit low maintenance gals who want husbands...
Mr. W and I talked a bit more, but I felt that the best way to get through to him on this topic would be with a little poetry. So the next day, I sent him this:
It's about you and me,
Leave the other opinions be,
It's not their memory
Of you on one bended knee.
What matters is us two;
Our promise to say "I do,"
No need for something new,
All I want's a sweet "Will you?"
Stop the fight;
No more worrying about who's right;
Put an end to my plight;
Come on, give me the greenlight!
Tonight I will go home and read my Dalai Lama book on patience...