I wish you'd come and see meI could tell you about the neighborhood river hockey finals, the banquet and then being out at clubs until two in the morning pretending I'm still twenty years old.
I'd like to hold you
I want to set my mind all free
You understand me woman,
You give me time
But I don't need no sympathy
Still I wonder what it's like to be loved
Instead of hiding in myself
Nobody will change me anyway
I could tell you that Ben and Henry had a pact to win one for their girls, and they did and there is a trophy sitting in my son's bedroom that is taller than he is.
I could write about Ruth's disappointment that her egg yolk "melted" before she had a chance to eat it on Saturday. She expected hard boiled and mom had delivered soft ones, because mother + cooking = mostly fail with the occasional total winner.
Or I could tell you that a year ago today I gave Ben back the engagement ring he gave me, because I didn't want him to feel obligated, I didn't want to rush and while I had feelings for him, I wasn't clear enough on anything to be making any sort of heart-led decisions at the time.
A week later I changed my mind. The fog lifted and I took the biggest risk of my life. I said yes the second time he asked and as difficult as it is being married to the biggest pain in the ass that ever lived, well, Ben says he doesn't regret it for a moment.
That day he made a bet with each one of our friends that a year from then, he and I would be together and happily so, and that it would all turn out okay. I'm not sure I shouldn't banish them all for that kind of support, gee, thanks. Are you ever lucky that I didn't hear about this before today.
Because Ben took his winnings to the jewelry store this morning and bought me a ring.
A gigantic diamond ring. A beautiful Canadian diamond because the guys told him that he would never land a real princess with a pretty purple amethyst like the one that served as my engagement ring.
He proved them wrong but I still got a diamond out of the deal. A gorgeous icy-blue sharp and very incredibly heavy diamond ring that makes my head spin.
I would show you a picture or even just link it but then you would come and kill me in my sleep and saw off my finger. Plus I have been expressly forbidden to share a photo because Ben has no intentions of letting the world know that yes, he is indeed the biggest. most sentimental sap that ever lived.
(He would say semi-mental? right about now and make me laugh.)
He would much rather have you think that he rips the heads off of Ruth's barbie dolls with his teeth, draws porn when he isn't smashing guitars, and intentionally played the net yesterday without his helmet on, in front of a rink full of impressionable seven-to-twelve year olds and causing a small altercation with some of the parents, who pointed out the poor impression, all of them completely forgetting that this is the same man who showed up to Henry's kindergarten graduation a few years ago in mascara and a kilt, and habitually lights up cigarettes in the vestibule at the church.
Yes, that's the man who buys his wife pretty, sparkly things. That's my Ben, who knows that negative conditioning is totally the way to go, proving that he knows me best.
I might be wrong of course, I'm just too distracted by the sweetness right now to make any kind of sense whatsoever. Everyone is threatening to take my new ring away tomorrow if I can't get my head on straight by then. And now if you'll excuse, I need to find out what other bets are in play right now, at my expense, and make some money off these jerks.
Or maybe I should just go and get some sleep.