“Put a ring on it,” had become my mantra for the month of December. Every time Lo would rib me about looking at an attractive woman crossing the street or her friend Brenda’s coming on to me (which she did repeatedly, despite my making plain as day the arrangement) or my gregariousness with females (what she calls ‘flirting’ and I call ‘being friendly’), I would turn to her and say, “Put a ring on it and lock that shit down!” That was usually followed immediately by a swift punch in the arm from her. Little did she know that the reason for my constant teasing her in this manner was because I had made up in my mind that a ring was to be my Christmas present to her.
I had spent much of my free time that month trolling the department stores, boutiques, and antique outlets. Nowhere did I find exactly what I was looking for. It is difficult, having a clear idea of what one wants.
Finally, it was Christmas Eve. I had no ring. And that was to be my BIG gift to Lo. I was at my wits’ end. And so, in a final act of desperation I went into the antique jewelry store around the corner from my street. It is the closest jewelry store to my house but, perhaps for that reason, I hadn’t thought of going there. I walked in and, tucked away in an unheralded nook, in a glass display case was the exact ring I had envisioned. Platinum, ornate, antique, with a large diamond, yet it didn’t look anything like what engagement rings of today look like.
I spoke to the owner of the store who told me that this particular ring was a popular item in the art-deco 30’s as a “friendship ring.” Yes! That’s it. I mean, “friendship” does sound a bit odd, but the ring was not so much intended to be a wedding or engagement ring as a ring that said, “I love you. I love being with you. You’re my hotwife and I want the world to know that.”
I bought it, wrapped it, and when Lo wasn’t looking, hid it under the tree way in the back where she’d never see it until all the other presents were opened. I got a ring and dodged a bullet!
That night a few friends, Lo and I, got Chinese food, watched silly Christmas movies, and opened gifts. When all the gifts were gone I said to Lo, “Darling, are you sure there’s nothing left to open?” She got down and looked under the tree more carefully and, squealing with delight, she found the tiny wrapped box. She sat on the couch and delicately unwrapped it. When she saw what was inside, her face turned almost as red as her cute scarlet blouse.
She took out the ring and put it on her left-hand ring finger. Everyone admired it. I immediately snapped a pic of it and, practical joker that I am, encouraged Lo to put it up on Facebook. She did, with the caption, “Best Christmas present ever!” Within minutes twenty people had responded with congratulations for Lo! Don’t these people have anything better to do than be on Facebook on Christmas Eve?! By midnight, so many people had written her that our friends were saying, “You’re going to have to get married! You can’t let all those people down now.” We laughed about it, but Lo was actually worried.
Our little prank took a more serious turn when my mother called to congratulate us. She doesn’t even have a Facebook page, but word travels fast!!! At that point we had to do something, so Lo posted a note to take the wind out of everyone’s sails. You wouldn’t believe the vituperative responses she got. So, I finally went on and said, “People, you don’t honestly think that we would announce our engagement on Facebook, do you? We have way more class than that. We would make it a Twitter feed!”
All of this was, of course, a jab at all of Lo’s twenty-something-year-old friends for whom marriage is the end-all-and-be-all of a relationship; for whom planning a party, buying the dress, being the center of attention for a full year is more important than. . . than, what is that all about? Oh yeah, being in love with a person.
Of course, those who have bought into this whole Wedding-Day-Trumps-Every-Other-Day-Of-My-Life mentality were quite offended by our holding up a mirror to them. Not least of which was Lo’s friend Kate who left the angriest message of all for Lo. I suppose we won’t ever be invited back to go skiing with her and David again.
After a few drinks and after our friends made their way home two-by-two, Lo and I retired to bed where she told me again what a lovely gift her ring was. I just smiled and said, “Well, you know, if I want to lock that shit down, I gotta put a ring on it.” She hit me with a pillow and said, “Yeah, right. Like you want to lock this down.”
I responded by saying, “Where’s my ring? Don’t you want us to be unlawfully pronounced hot-wife and house-husband?”
“It’s house-husband and hot-wife,” she said.
“What?” I asked.
“That’s the order that they say it in, dummy!”
“Well, I’m changing the order,” I said.
“It just doesn’t have the same ring to it,” she replied. “And besides, I don’t want you to be my house-husband. I want you to be my Daddy and have your way with me!”
And so I did.
[From the blog: mysexlifewithlola.com]