Last Wednesday I taught 12 little girls how to make chocolate chip cookies. This activity took place in the kitchen of my church building. My very old church building. Between mopping floors covered by eggs that exploded under the inexperienced crushing of 9 year old hands and wiping down counters crazily covered with flour I decided to take off my wedding ring. The last thing I wanted was to loose it down a 50 year old drain in a building that some consider a historic landmark.
I thought the window sill was a perfectly safe place to let my prized possession rest.
The next morning I dragged myself out of bed and off to work. I had to be in early for a meeting and didn't even fully wake up until I took the first sip from my daily ritualistic cup of hot cocoa. As I started typing my computer log on I looked down and was shocked to see a naked little ring finger staring back at me.
The Rolodex of my mind started whirring and flipped open to the correct card regarding ring placement. I realized that it was still sitting there in the church's windowsill.
Frantically, I called the ear doctor. Luckily, he drives right by the church on his way to work. I asked him to swing by and get it.
Phew, that was a close one.
My day passed and we decided to meet up for dinner at Chili's before a later appointment. I arrived first, got us a table and waited for my one true love to arrive. As he entered that fine establishment he had a gleam in his eye and hands stuffed into his pockets.
As we perused the menu we shared a few laughs. I hadn't even thought about my missing rings, trusting that he had got them alright. There was a slight lull in the conversation.
His eyes darted side to side and started to slyly curl up at the corners.
The next thing I knew he had slid around to floor, stopping just in front of my side of the table. He expertly balanced himself on one knee, brought his hands from his pocket to show me a beautiful gray ring box.
He opened it to show me my own wedding ring. I caught my breath.
There, in Chili's he asked me to be his wife. Again.
I almost snorted water through my nose, smiled and nodded yes.The entire restaurant burst into applause.
Sure, I already got the perfect wedding proposal. Its true, we've been married for 10 months. But, honestly, if he'd actually asked me to marry him at Chili's I probably would have been SO disappointed.
It's funny though; when I saw him kneeling there with ring offered up to me I felt the same excited, thrilled, elated, in-love feeling that I got during the real proposal. The feeling telling me I picked the right one.
And I'm SO lucky he picked me back.