Tiger Woods or Patrick Dempsey?
...and, as I do 9 times out of 10 when she poses a question (serious or not), I nodded, and I smiled. After all, I've read about this. I'm kind of an expert.
There's a moment right after you pop the question when your to-be-bride stands before you, awestruck, mouth agape, motor functions lost. And in the moment you may think that you've entranced her with your unique and charming proposal, that she is so overwhelmed by you and your words that she's fallen into a dreamlike, ethereal state.
What you've actually done is awakened a beast of the brain, suspending use of the temporal lobe and releasing a tight cluster of chemicals that she has been storing since birth in the hypothalamus, located here:
These chemicals are rather emotional, highly anxious and may cry unexpectedly. In other words, when 2E's asks out of the blue, as she's sipping her Trader Joe's coffee,
Tiger Woods or Patrick Dempsey?
I assume it's the chemicals talking.
2E's: Which suit? Answer me!
1E: What am I answering?
2E's: Tiger Woods. Or Patrick Dempsey.
And she gestures to the magazine that sits exposed on the kitchen table. Dempsey stands smiling on the left in a crisp, casual but formal stroller jacket; Woods on the right in a traditional double-breasted tuxedo.
1E: Dempsey.
2E's: Dempsey?
1E: Dempsey.
2E's: ::judgmental pause::
1E: What?
2E's: Nothing. I gotta go. Love you.
And with that, she was gone. No explanation. No guidance. Just the smell of organic free trade coffee and a chemical residue in the air.
And even after she was out the door -- because it's a good habit to get into -- I did what all us grooms must do in situations like these. I nodded, and I smiled.
I think you are going to be wearing the "traditional double-breasted tuxedo".
ReplyDelete