The evening of our engagement

Today is the anniversary of our engagement.  We became engaged exactly one year and one day after our first date.  We couldn't go out on the one year anniversary because that was a football game.  We went out the next evening to a lovely restaurant.  Andrew arrived late to pick me up.  Later I learned it was because he had stopped at my parents' house to ask for their permission to marry me.  My dad said Andrew needed to talk to my mother, who said it was entirely my decision.  I tease Andrew that he never actually asked me to marry him.  He simply said, "I want you to be my wife."  He maintains that since my response was, "Yes" it must have been a question!  Anyway, the ring (which he had just purchased that morning) was entirely too large, but of course I wanted to where it anyway.  After all, I had just become engaged to the man I love.  After a lovely dinner (this restaurant also catered our wedding) we stopped to buy some gas before we made the 40 minute drive home.  While at the gas station, I called my parents to let them know I had said yes, and I put my left hand down beside the seat...actually between the seat and the console.  The ring slipped off, and I remember hearing it "ping" as it hit metal.  I could feel it, but in the process of trying to retrieve it, it fell deeper.  Andrew went inside to get a flashlight to make sure it hadn't fallen on the ground, and we didn't see it anywhere.  I wasn't terribly worried as I was sure we would find it in the light of the next day.  We got back to my house and made some phone calls to tell people about our engagement, but Andrew was clearly annoyed by the ring situation.  I was completely convinced we would find it the next day.

The next day was a bright and sunny day.  We began looking for the ring...and looking for the ring...and looking some more.  My dad came over, and I was beginning to get upset.  We even took the front passenger seat out and pulled the carpeting up.  I still couldn't find it.  Andrew's irritation from the evening before began to soften as he realized how upset I was becoming.  My dad ended up taking the car home and using a shop vac with a mesh covering.  In spite of the fact that he called a mechanic who assured us there was no way the ring had fallen out, my dad was convinced we weren't getting it back.  Later in the week, we replaced the ring, and this time we had it sized before I could leave with it or wear it.  I love my engagement ring, but honestly I like the one Andrew picked out himself better.  Ultimately though, all that matters is I am married to Andrew.  Whenever we have a disagreement and I am proving my point, Andrew will say, "You lost the ring."  It's his zinger!  I am so grateful for our marriage...even if the engagement evening itself was less than ideal!