How We Got Engaged... and Failed at Getting Free Ice-Cream

Where was I? Oh right, Ray proposed.

That was Friday, February 8.

In my head I threw my hot chocolate and gloves up into the air and went for the ring, all in one fail swoop. But that might not be exactly how it happened.

But it was at Fountain Square, and it was simple and sweet and perfect. He said: 'Marry me. Please.'

We were by the ice skating rink and had just had a lovely dinner at Via Vite, following by cookies and hot chocolate at Graeter's.

Though we both knew we were getting engaged that night, we decided to get married a long time ago. To that end, I've been wearing Ray's mom's engagement ring for months.

This classic beauty is 52 years old. All we did was resize it.

It's gorgeous, isn't it.

His parents got engaged in 1961, and Ray's dad couldn't have had better taste. It's simple, understated and classic. I wear it on my right hand because we knew we'd eventually get me a flatter ring, something I could wear more everyday. But with all due respect to the ring we picked out together, his mom's ring is my real favorite. There's 52 years of history behind this beauty.

Now, how the proposal happened depends on which one of us you ask. But regardless of who you hear the story from, the one thing we both agree on is that I tried to persuade him into proposing at Graeter's.

I maintain it was perfect.

1. It was warm inside and we were having Valentine's cookies and hot chocolate (romantic!)
2. I wasn't wearing gloves but knew I would be once we went outside (no hassling with gloves to put the ring on)
3. It was quiet and I thought the Macy's jumbo-tron might be blaring outside again (when we walked to Graeter's from Via Vite there was a Trojan ad playing, no joke)

So I laid out my case as we sat at a window table.

'Yo, you could propose to me right now. It's warm and cozy in here,' I said as I gave him doe eyes.

'What? In Graeter's? No way. I am not proposing to you next to the pop machine.'

About that time the Graeter's worker came over and asked us if we wanted some cookie samples.

I gave him the 'Beat it! I'm trying to convince my man to propose here' angry eyes.

'Besides, there's some weird guy passing around cookies,' Ray said.

'No one passing out cookies is weird,' I said. Then added: 'Besides, Graeter's is super romantic.' *doe eyes again

'I can hearing the pop machine humming, Gina. And it says Coca Cola right behind your head.'

Well, this is awkward, I thought as I finished my cookie. So much for my doe eyes.

We got up a few minutes later and even though we'd been planning this all night, I was nervous as we walked across the square. I briefly feared he was going to make me take a carriage ride. But as we turned toward the ice skating rink, that's when he took the box from his pocket and formally asked.

I don't even think I said anything honestly. Again, in my head I feel like I just threw my gloves and hot chocolate into the air in favor of the ring box. But really I think I just handed it all to him, like, HERE, take all this crap!

I remember he asked me again and then I said yes.

This is my engagement ring. It's pretty awesome if I do say so myself.

This is what it looks like in its natural habitat, at the keyboard.

Ray has a slightly different version of all this. His version might involve me pressing him harder in Graeter's and demanding to know where the ring was. I contend this is erroneous.

The next night we had an open house and 45 of our closest friends came over. It was great. A proposal on Friday night and then a big party on Saturday with a new ring, an engagement and a new house to celebrate. It was awesome.

P.S. Whenever I tell people this story they insist we should have gotten engaged at Graeter's. 'Dude, you'd have gotten free ice cream for sure! Maybe for life!' I should have mentioned that when I was trying to convince Ray. 'Ice cream for life, we'd be stupid to not get engaged here!'