To catch up, you can read Our Love Story here.
We had said I love you, we had shopped for rings, we had learned that we could travel together. There was one other thing that had to be tackled before Husband could propose.
He had to ask my dad for permission.
Now, I’m a strong-willed, professional, modern woman, but I’m also traditional. I told Husband in the beginning of our little adventure that he was going to have to ask my dad for permission to propose, there were no ifs, ands or buts about it.
After our spring break trip to the Grand Canyon, we started making plans to visit Dallas over Easter break. That would give Husband some time to get to know Dad, we could plan graduation festivities, and he could ask the big question.
We were there for a long weekend, celebrated Easter with my extended family who lives in the area, and then it was Monday. We were flying out late that night, and Husband still hadn’t asked the question. I had been pestering him all.weekend.long, because, seriously? That’s the main reason for the trip!
Finally, he went into the study and asked if he could talk to my dad for a few minutes. From the way he tells it, he told my dad that he loved me very much and would like my dad’s permission to ask me to marry him.
And what did my dad do?
He said (and I QUOTE!), “I think that would be a good idea.”
And that was that.
No questions about how much he loved me, how he was going to take care of me, nothing like that. Just a simple statement and that was that!
Husband was relieved, Mom was annoyed that she wasn’t included in the questioning as well, and we were done, and on a plane back home to school to finish out the semester.
More to come…