The whole stuff surrounding ours is quite a plavar actually!
I knew he was planning to propose - we'd chosen the ring together. The first time he proposed was when I was getting on the bed after having DD (bearing arse to all sundry). I was knackered and shocked at such a whirlwind labour and delivery and he didn't even have the ring! I told him to sod off home.
He tried again on our first night out after DD, but he was absolutely slaughtered drunk and couldn't even remember his own name...so I told him that he had to ask me when he'd be able to remember it in the morning.
I feel quite bad now, cos he asked me in the morning. I felt like he'd been asking purely cos he had the ring and it was burning a hole in his pocket, rather than asking because he wanted to
ANYWAYS...last year we went on a family holiday and my dad and his wife came with us. OH and I planned a night of a romantic meal and then cocktails afterwards. After I'd had my main, I went and used the toilet and fell down the stairs. Resulting in me and A&E.
A few nights later (with my foot in a cast) my OH asked my dad if they'd have the kids again that night while we were having lunch in a seafood restaurant. We'd got ready and my dad had the kids when I spent the rest of the night throwing up (from the seafood
)
On our very last day, leg still in cast and me not eating from the seafood episode, we took a walk on the beach with our little boy. We walked to the end of a pier and gazed out across the ocean and I turned to OH (who was fumbling in his pocket) and told him that NOW would be a perfect time to ask me to marry him.
His face dropped and he got out the ring and said '*** shut up...I've been trying to ask you all week and you kept getting in the way! It was quite funny actually and obviously I said yes.
Suppose me being sick and hurting my ankle was a way of getting back at me for saying no in the first place