I Wish I Proposed To My Husband

I was reading the news… fine, I was scrolling through my Facebook newsfeed and learned that my friend is engaged. Here’s the best part, she proposed!

Darn straight. Welcome, 21st century female empowerment! Why give the guy a chance to mess up the proposal? Also, screw social norms.

The post evoked a chain reaction, and induced a burning question: how would’ve I propose to my husband?

After careful though, I drew up 3 potential proposal (pun intended!) strategies, hopefully each ending with a “yes!”.


On his birthday (need an excuse for the exaggerated set-up), I’ll lure him into the dining room of my condo. The lights are dimmed, because he digs yellow lighting (something about “ambience”). John Legend’s All Of Me is playing in the background, probably on some cheap speaker I snagged somewhere.

The dining table is empty, except for 2 huge gift-wrapped boxes. I sit him down.

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“Open this, baby.” I say, inching box number 1 forward.

He tears the wrapper off, face (hopefully) dripping with anticipation.

Underneath is a box of lego- the one he’s been lusting after (one of the many on his list).

Hopefully he’s smitten. It’s hard to tell with boys. One moment they promise you the stars, next they camp in front of a laptop screaming “cover me! cover me!” as if you don’t exist.

Of course he’s eyeing the next box. “This is for you too, baby.” I gesture at the neatly wrapped box. It’s bigger than the other, he notes.

He tears through the paper once again, to find… a plain cardboard box?

He shoots me a puzzled look.

“Go ahead, open the box,” I nudge him.

He does.

Inside, lies a huge lego board. On it, arranged with lego blocks are the words: MARRY ME?

At this point of time, I whip out a lego ring, and go down on one knee.

Photo credit: www.inglele.wordpress.com

With the best doe-eye look one can muster, I form the words, “we are like two compatible lego bricks, perfect together. I love you, will you marry me?


Also on his birthday (again, can’t have him suspicious), I bake him a Star Wars themed cake, garnished with an X-wing plane- one of the more aerodynamically-logical aircraft in Star Wars.

I’m dressed as a rebel pilot- probably a Taobao enabled purchase.

Photo credit: www.forum.rebellegion.com

This time I balance the cake in both hands. I approach him while (probably) singing an off tune version of Happy Birthday.

After his hearing recovers from my singing and he blows the candles, I say, “look under the X-wing, baby.”

He reaches under the sugar laden cream with one sweeping finger motion, his expression quizzical, till he hits solid.

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He pulls out a silver ring with the rebel emblem. Of course its covered in sugary goodness, but I don’t care.

I pry the ring out of his hands, and drop to one knee, thank goodness for the jumpsuit and its knee-abrasion-prevention properties.

Amazing, you are. In love with you, I am. Marry me, will you?” I pose.


P.S.: A Princess Leiah outfit is not an option due to the impossibility of anatomy accuracy.


“Hey dude!” I call over the thundering roar of whatever game he’s playing.

“For you,” I say, and thrust an envelope into his hands.

He pauses his game… just joking, he never pauses his game.

During his next toilet break, his curiosity gets the better of him. So he rips the envelope open.

There’s a piece of paper and a solid object in the envelope. He turns the stationary upside down, and something hard and metallic drops out with a ping on the floor.

He bends over to retrieve the mystery object to find, to his amazement, a gear ring (his friend got her man one, and he’s been fancying it since).

Photo credit: www.thisiswhyimbroke.com

He glance at the paper in his hand and reads out loud:

Roses are red,

Violets are blue;

Can’t wait to have sex,

So marry me, will you?


Should he say yes, I present him a neatly wrapped box. In it is lingerie, and a note: “to supplement your wedding gift.”

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