11.11.11

A nice number isn't it?

What's nicer is that 3 years ago, today, was when my then boyfriend got down on one knee and with pink roses and shaky emotion filled voice asked me to marry him.

I agreed, of course. We're now happily married with one adorable son.

Every time the clock shows 11:11 I think of that day, so what more today; the anniversary of our engagement.

Today the newspaper was filled with romantic proposal stories of the couples getting hitched (11.11.11); so I reflected on my proposal story. I realised that there has been much more romance on the other days then at the proposal. I mean, the proposal WAS romantic, but....

There was this time when my husband knew I was having a bad day, and to cheer me up he bought me this beautiful single long stemmed rose.

Or how we celebrate our wedding anniversary every month.

Or how, after our son was born, he didn't rush out to show him off to the world but held my hand as the doctor stitched me up and continued pacing around til I came around.

Or, before that, how he held my hand through the contractions and let me pinch him when I just couldn't bear the pain.

Or how he makes me feel special just by looking at me. Or holding my hand. Or sharing a story.

How he says I'm beautiful and how when I look in his eyes, I think he really means it.

How he puts my needs above his, anticipates my wants and does whatever he can to make me happy.

On the day he proposed, he got the ring size wrong. Not because he didn't know the size, but because the guy at the jewellery store said my fingers will get bigger after a baby!

We got it re sized of course. And no, my fingers did not get bigger. My butt, maybe; but not my fingers.

So now you know why there's more romance in everyday sweetness: there is no third person to screw things up with unwanted advice.

Left to himself, my husband's quite the romantic - he designed the ring himself, and picked out a nice sparkly bling too!

So that's my proposal story.