Flailing limbs FTW.

 Thanks to Mama Kat's blog for the writing prompt!
3.) Married? Tell us the story of how the question was popped.

The Hubby proposed to me not once, but twice. I said "Yes!" both times.

Folks, I hate to say we were high school sweethearts, but that's the closest label I have. However, we didn't start dating until a month before he was to graduate (I was a year behind him). It was only a couple weeks before we were using the L-word. We spent all our time together, usually at his house because he's fairly reserved and let's just say my family, Jeebus love them, is not. Scatological jokes, TV/movie references, and profanity abound when my family is all together. There are few subjects my beloved ones will not approach, and approach inappropriately with great humor and gusto. But I digress.

It was a typical teenage romance, but we both knew it was "a big deal." I have never had any problem with knowing what I want, and after some of the shit I'd been through by the time I hit about 15 or 16 I was also damn good at knowing how to balance heart and brain in making decisions. Even my mom saw that I seemed much happier with him than I'd ever been before. (Whether she'd remember or admit saying that now I don't know... but I swear it happened!) In July of that year he unofficially popped the question. Of course, he couldn't just come right out and say it at first, but he's horrible at hinting and I'm awesome at figuring shit out. After about five or ten minutes of him "debating" out loud about "something he wanted to ask me" he finally just asked if, after I graduated, I would marry him. Of course, I said yes. Of course, this was also unofficial, because although we both already knew that we were just right for each other, it was a little soon to be declaring our ambitious intentions. A few more months went by, and we were into November. We were running around the mall and he suggested we go look at engagement rings. He bought the sweet little ring I wanted right then and there, but we had to order it in the right size. I expected that he would speak to my mom for "permission" first before officially popping the question, and that it would probably be closer to the time I graduated if not the night we graduated. Again, I'm awesome at figuring shit out, especially when it comes to anticipating what he's going to do. I guess I didn't count on his extreme level of impatience.

One day he called and asked to speak with my mom. I can't remember if he also spoke with my stepdad-at-the-time or not, because ultimately that didn't matter to me. A couple days later I was over at his house. We had gone into his room to watch a movie, and he told me to sit down on his bed. Naturally, I said "No." Cuz you ain't tellin' ME what to do. He asked again, looking me in the eyes, hands on my shoulders, and naturally, I said "NO!" Why the hell is he bossing me around?!

Only this time, in the process of jerking out of his grasp I stumbled back onto the bed, throwing my arm up and hitting him in the face in the process. Right in the nose. With my elbow. I apologized profusely, he cussed profusely. He sat down next to me with a heavy sigh, grasping his abused face. I continued apologizing, until finally he held up a hand to shush me, still holding his nose with the other hand. Then he took the hand down, and reached over to his nightstand drawer... and pulled out the box with my ring in it.

The moral of the story is: If you try to do something spontaneous and romantic around me, odds are you will end up exasperated... and maybe injured. Although in my defense you should know by now I'm a little accident-prone, and frequently take people down with me.