And then he drags her around in a net.....Didn't see that one coming.

Monday night, I was sitting home alone (T was working), watching television and looking like what my cousin described as "Tanya Harding's Cousin." I was an unwashed human--I had on ill-fitting pajamas, a stained tshirt, and socks I used to wear while hunting.

There was a knock at the door.

I got up to see who it was--

(I don't lock my doors, usually. I live in the middle of nowhere in a retirement community. Seriously. All the people who come to my house on a regular basis just walk in, and I'm ok with that.)

And whoever it was had covered the peep-hole so I couldn't see.

I asked, "Who is it?", and received no answer.

I started to panic. I watch crime shows all day long, and I'm thinking, 'Some insane person has figured out that I live alone and surrounded by elderly deaf people. T is at work....I'm going to be murdered."

So I sprung into action. I turned the deadbolt in the door, and was preparing to race across the house to get the gun and the phone--I was going to hurl my kitchen windows open and brandish weapons while yelling something along the lines of:

"Motherfucker, I have a gun and a phone. Get the fuck of my property before I shoot your ass and call the cops!"

However, I didn't make it that far.

As I turned the deadbolt, the person on the other side of the door took their finger off the peephole. I saw the light shine through, so I looked again.

It was T.

I freaked--Why wasn't he at work? Something horrible must have happened! (I managed to forget that he has a key to my house, and it's not like he couldn't have just walked in anyway....)

I flung the door open.

"Why aren't you at work!!!???" I said.

Then I realized that T was wearing a suit. Carrying a dozen red roses and a bottle of wine.

"What the hell are you doing?", I asked.

He stepped inside my house, handed me the flowers and put the wine down.

"These are for you!", he said.

And then, with me in all my unwashed, scuzzy toothed, pajama-ed glory, T got down on one knee (And crashed into my pantry door) in his suit and asked me to marry him.

I said, "Of course I will marry you! Why aren't you at work?"

(I rock. So romantic and eloquent in my confusion.)

T had managed to surprise me--which is a feat in and of itself. He had taken two vacation days and pretended to go to work, only to go home, change, get roses and wine and the ring and come back to my house to propose marriage.

I guess he didn't plan on me plotting his death because of it.