I’m kind of a sucker for Valentine’s Day, the same way I’m a sucker for Halloween and New Year’s Eve. Now that we have kids, this “holiday” is all about them, of course. Addy and I made sweet foam-heart valentines this year, decorated them with stickers and sent them to the usual suspects in our family. And that’s pretty much what Valentine’s means to me now that we have Addy and Peyps. I’m not going to lie though — give me something pretty in a little blue box topped with a white ribbon or a stunning bouquet from my favourite florist (plug: you can’t go wrong visiting Ann’s Flowers in Markham…ahem, Peter) and I’m a happy gal.
I know how Peter feels about V-Day: He thinks it’s a cash grab. So you can imagine my surprise five years ago on this very day when he proposed.
Truth be told I knew it was coming, but he’d been quite adamant that he’d never pop the question on a holiday of any sort or my birthday. And he’d planned on adhering to that rule and proposing on a random day in January 2007, but his plans were foiled when the ring he had a jeweller make for me wasn’t quite right and he asked him to make a new one. (When I heard this story later it explained why Peter had been so grumpy in the weeks prior to our engagement — he was stressed about the ring.)
Anyway, the story of my most memorable V-Day goes like this: The night before the big day I got home super late from work. First thing I noticed when I went up to our bedroom was a gift bag sitting atop our PVR. It’s unlike Peter to be so on top of a holiday, I thought. So I did what any normal gal would do — when he was in the bathroom I picked up the bag to see how heavy it was. It was pretty light so I thought there could be potential for a ring, even though he swore up and down he wasn’t proposing on February 14.
The second our alarm went off the next morning, Peter bolted out of bed — to this day I’ve never seen him move as fast. He said, “let’s do Valentine presents now.” To which I responded, “but I haven’t even gone to the bathroom yet.” (Romantic, I know.)
He brought over the bag and I pulled out a box wrapped in a ton of tissue paper. When I got to the last layer I tore into the package only to find out that it wasn’t a ring. “Oh. It’s an iPod,” I said. (And yes, I said it in a really miserable way.) Peter goes on to rave about how awesome this iPod is — how it’s way better than my old one, has more memory and it’s even red for Valentine’s Day. I was unimpressed. I still felt like something fishy was up, so I started going through the box to see if a ring was hiding somewhere. Nothing. I quickly resigned myself to the fact that he wasn’t going to “put a ring on it” (as Beyonce sings) and put a smile on my face. He continued to go on and on about the stupid iPod and urged me to give it a good look. So I turned it around and lo and behold, this is what I saw engraved: Lisa, will you marry me?
You know what happens next.
So yes, I’m one of those girls who said “YES!” on the “most romantic day of the year.”
How did your significant other pop the question?
Photo by moonlightbulb via Flickr