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Brought up Mar 25, 2010

Why not to send the Engagement ring to the shared address.

My Boyfriend and I have been talking about marriage since we met. What can I say, I simply knew he was the one. After living separately and dating for about a year we decided to take the step and move in together. I had one stipulation, I needed a ring on my finger first. Luke is a good man, but scatterbrained and overworked, he didn't manage to pick out or order the ring until the last minute. Apparently he had forgotten about the size of the planet. So in the end I settled for, “Honey it's in the mail.” The ring he stated was on its way from Dublin Ireland.

Tuesday morning I woke up to the early Fed Ex delivery and signed for a package from Dublin. This is when the trouble started. What kind of woman could make it 9 hours without opening the box that she knew contained her long awaited engagement ring? I examined the outside of the box, gave it a shake, nothing even rattled. I desperately wanted to open it and the box seemed to agree, the open here tabs pleaded with me, begging to be pulled. The puppy chewed on a corner, looking up at me as if to say, come on mom!

I put the box in his underwear drawer, closed it and forced myself to do house work, my mind buzzing too loudly to focuses on writing. Soon I settled into a gardening project and around 6pm bought myself a bottle of wine to celebrate my self control. My Gardening room is located in the basement of the house, the idea is to have the lights and heater's heat spread to the upstairs. Denver weather was doing its worst and snow was falling at a rate of 2 inches an hour.

I stepped one barefoot outside my back door and grabbed a bag of mulch, turned towards the stairs and promptly fell down the entire flight. Mulch covered me from head to toe, and well there is no way to say this kindly... my butt hurt. At this point nursing my bashed and beaten body I made my way back into my garden room and finished the bottle of wine, sulking that Luke was at a board meeting and I had no one to share my misery with.

Finally, my wait had ended, I heard Luke upstairs, he knew the box was in his underwear drawer and brought it down stairs to me.

“I intended to take you out to dinner and give this to you.”

“Sure hon, but were poor and I fell down the stairs.”

“Oh NO! Are you alright?”

“Yes,” I admitted full of pout.

“OK, well then you can have the ring this weekend.”

“Can I at least look at the box?” I pleaded sounding more like a kid on Christmas eve then a 31 year old woman has a right too.

The box was emerald green, with a little snap on the front. The coolest looking box I think I have ever seen.

By the way, I currently have a bruise on my rear the size of a pint glass, and one on my ankle to match. Let's hope the ring is worth the wait.


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