I did. I ruined Ryan's surprise. It took approximately one sentence. Maybe two, if we're being generous.
September 8th, 2005:
Ryan suggests we go camping at Palouse Falls the following day. There are several things wrong with this suggestion... the most important of which is the fact that I do not particularly enjoy dirt, bugs, peeing in bushes, sleeping on the ground, or anything else related to camping.
Ok--fine. I like the s'mores.
...and hot dogs.
Fine. The fire is kind of pretty too.
I was trying to be a trooper, though, and I said we could go. We started to talk about the food we'd take, when we would leave... you know. The usual.
At least I think that's the usual. Like I said--just say no to camping. That's my policy.
September 9th, 2005:
I panic. I'm reading weather reports and seeing lots of cold and rain. All weekend. Visions of blue-tarp camping are dancing in my head... and then I realize something. We do not OWN a blue tarp.
So I call Ryan, who is at work, and tell him I do not wish to go camping.
"It'll be cold," I moaned, "...and wet."
How was I supposed to know he wanted to take me down to the base of the falls and propose amongst the rocks and, uh... other... nature-y things?
...and the bugs. BUGS, I tell you.
So we didn't go. Because I didn't know. It's not like he could say, "Oh no, hunny, we must go. If we don't go, I won't be able to propose to you!"
I think he was already nervous, at that point. Naturally. Proposals equal nervous men, do they not? He's nervous, and then I go and mess with his carefully laid plans.
So that evening, right there in the living room of our cute, blue rental house, he asked me to marry him.
And it was perfect. For us. Because I didn't need anything out of the ordinary for that memory to be a special one.
I gave him a big hug and a kiss, and then he handed me the phone.
"Go on, call your mom." ...and he was serious.
It's important to know your bride before you propose to her, you know? Even down to the details. Like the fact that she'll need to call her mother immediately after the occurrence of an event so big as a proposal.
I know lots of you have been proposed to... tell me the story!