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Friday, September 25, 2009

The parking space


I belong on the beach, but live in the desert. I belong in a hammock eating mangoes, but somehow have ended up sitting on a plastic lawn chair in the street eating otter pops. Every Mini Cooper that drives by I’m pretty sure should be mine, while the huge Suburban is the car I actually have the keys for. The great thing about my life is that I have all of things I never thought I could have and I can’t have all the things I thought I wanted—every sticky kiss and chubby-armed hug I get brings me one step closer to the perfect life; I wouldn't have it any other way...

Driving into a parking lot with my husband can be excruciating. The way I see it, there are two kinds of people in this world: the decisive and the indecisive. I am proud to announce that when choosing a parking spot, I am decisive. Paul, on the other hand, will pass by 10 perfectly good parking spaces only to pull into one that isn’t any better than the rest. That, my friends, is called indecisive.

Picking a wife is a little trickier than picking a parking space. There are consequences to passing by 10 perfectly good potential wives only to pick the next one that comes along. Keep that up and you might not get one at all. It’s a good thing my husband had the good sense to pick the best option right from the start, albeit on the indecisive side of things.

I will have everyone know that he deserves the beating he is about to get as I describe the details of “The Worst Proposal in History.”

A little background: Paul gets home from a two year stint of service (we call that a mission where I’m from) with only one thing on his mind.....date as many girls as possible and kiss them all. (Sorry honey, Blogging isn’t for the faint of heart.) He meets me. We date. Yep, just me. Poor Paul just dated little ole’ me, and before he knew it I was telling him that I was done being pals.

Translation: If you’re gonna pick this parking space you had better do it, because it isn’t going to remain available much longer.

Under duress the poor guy had to make his move....and here is how it went.

We drove into his parent’s driveway. He checked the mail. He ended up with a REJECTION letter from the Brigham Young University. He turned to me and said, “So, what would you say if I asked you to marry me?”

(My thought: “Oh, sure, get a rejection letter from a place that actually HAS an endless supply of girls you can date and kiss so just settle for the one sitting in front of you?!” Next thought: “What a baby! Probably can’t even pick his own stinking parking spot without help.”)

My answer? “I guess you would have to ask to find out, wouldn’t you?” He did. I did. End of story? Not even close! THREE MONTHS later Paul is still halfway in and halfway out of the parking space. He hadn’t REALLY decided what he wanted, he was just stalling. I handed back the engagement ring and told him he could keep it. Well, he had a nice heart to heart with his dad. He prayed. I won’t go into detail here, it isn’t my moment to share, but I will say this, I looked really good in that wedding dress.

Paul and I have now been married for 14 ½ years and I am still waiting for a redo on that proposal. However, let’s skip the driveway and rejection letter this time. Take me straight to Hollywood, baby!


Anonymous said...

Dear Misty,
Congrats on getting picked as a guest writer!
They picked a good one.
Marci Carlson

A Foster Parent Who Gets It said...

Great story teller, you are! I enjoyed reading from top to bottom.... congratulations!!

Rachel said...

Misty! You're awesome! I would like to add that Brian also drives around forever trying to pick a parking spot and eventually all that was left was me........handicapped parking! :D

Great story Misty! And I love your photo too!!!!

Alana Summerlin said...

So true, how life unwraps itself with the best present ever. Your a great writer and perspective is spot on. Congratulations

Anonymous said...

Great story. Well told. So fun to read! Thanks Misty! Miss you guys!

Anonymous said...

It's all about finding that parking space, isn't it?

NY 1596

Teachinfourth said...

Glad you were able to find a 'parking space' in the end...from what I've seen on your blog, it seems to be a good one.

Gerb said...

I couldn't decide if I liked this post or the post on your blog that linked to it better... they were both fun to read!

Richard & Natalie said...

Loved your story. Maybe you can give me some lessons on being decisive. Richard would've appreciated that 13 years ago when I was looking at my own parking spot.

PMC said...

Oh, I just love every single one of you. I enjoyed my day in the sun yesterday. Thank you all for your support and coolness. :) Sigh...I love being famous! Well, back to normal life!

Taylor C. said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
K said...

Okay, you skunk. You win. You get Most Comments Gotten By Any of Us at Any Time Ever. Stinker. I think you must have written about Mr. Misty's proposal before because I remember thinking, "Yeah, that's EGG-Zactly what my daddy said when he bravely popped the question." And you said EGG-Zactly what my mama said. So you are in excellent company. And the parking spot thing? No wonder you and I get along so well; we live in the same dysfunctional universe. Our husbands match. Only our wit differs, and I defer to you. Maybe I'll have to start writing things again instead of just posting tomes of images. Then somebody will comment. I'm sure they will. Somebody besides the fam (which includes Rachel and you and the other three who read me - wait, are there another three?)

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