Now he actually asked my mum for permission to marry me a good 8 months before he actually proposed. Reason being, he wanted to ask my mum the question face-to-face rather than over the phone and when he was last back home in Malaysia, he asked my mum then. She gave her blessing (with a lot of caveats of course) and I waited patiently for the popping of The Question (if you're wondering what The Question is, then you have not paid attention to the purpose of this blog and should now go back to the very first post an re-read that before proceeding).
You see, the problem with asking your girlfriend to marry you in this situation is: when she already knows that you're going to ask, where is the element of surprise? Especially so when your girlfriend has an overactive imagination? Which I promise you dear reader, I do have a very vivid imagination in abundance. The poor man obviously had his work cut out for him. Add the above factors to the fact that He is, a very, very, bad liar. With every little flicker of emotion, flashing across his face! Although He thinks he is as unreadable as a Latin sign post.
I was truly on my best behaviour until approximately 5 days before he proposed. Here is why - my dearest sister and her Australian boyfriend got engaged and that started me thinking about "when" He would do the deed. The problem with me was I can.not.keep.my.mouth.shut. around him. I would tell him every single thing that crossed into my head from something as mundane as "I accidentally stepped on my own foot today" to something very relevant as "I think zombies really do exist". As if that wasn't enough, my perverse sense of humour prompted me to pretend that I knew where he had hid the ring (if there was a ring in the house in the first place!). As I jokingly went around the apartment, in the manner of a metal detector going *beep* *beep*, His horrified expression quickly told me that this was too close to the truth! I, of course, being the sane, logical and completely empathetic person you know me to be, stopped, immediately (ok maybe not immediately but very soon after that).
The very next day, we were busy unpacking, me in the bedroom, hanging his work shirts on the wardrobe rails and he in the living room, doing goodness knows what...I was trying to get him to come into the bedroom to hang some of the clothes on the higher rail, which I couldn't reach but after 15 minutes of waiting and tiptoeing in my effort to reach the top rail, I huffed and puffed my way into the living room, demanding to know what was taking him so long when...
...I heard Roxette's Bring Me Down To My Knees playing, and there He was, on one knee, holding a ring box up and looking rather nervous or serious or both? I would like to say that I didn't get overexcited and I didn't start crying and I didn't start jumping around, clapping my hands in the most unladylike manner and shouting "yes yes" in total abandon. But I have to say I did. And why is that so bad? Because if you have noticed, dear reader, he hasn't quite popped the Question. Neither has he had time to present the Goods (also known as the Ring).
When I calmed down some, and both of us were in tears, he asked me to marry him along the lines of all-I-need-is-your-love, he tried to open the ring box to show me the Ring. I say tried, because there was a half a minute of trying to open the ring box before both of us realised that he was holding it upside down!
I cannot tell you now how he originally wanted to propose, but I will tell you later! But both of us agree, there hasn't been a moment where something that went so wrong, felt so right.
And so hilarious. HAHAHAHAHA!!
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