It’s a typical Saturday morning. The house is quiet except for my little man and I, hanging out in the living room while little sister and Daddy sleep in. He’s watching Disney Jr. while I surf the interwebz for yet more apartments/rental houses in our area (our lease is up at the end of March and the rent on this place is ridiculous, so we are looking for something else).
Boy comes over to play behind me, and starts talking.
Boy: “When you put a ring on someone’s finger it means your married.”
Me: “Yes, honey, sometimes that’s what it means, if you give someone a special ring like a diamond, yes.” (vague and not always true, I know, but he’s 4 and I had just started drinking my coffee).
Boy: “When you put the ring on someone’s finger, you kiss the ring then you kiss them on the mouth.”
At which time, he takes a yellow plastic diamond-shaped ring and puts it on my finger, gives it a kiss, and looks up at me for a smooch. Of course I obliged.
Me: “What does this mean, sweetie?”
Boy: “It means we’re married mama. I love you”
Me: “I love you too buddy.” (as tears well up and stream down my face)
Best. Proposal. Ever.