Want to know how Barack proposed to Michelle...this is kind of delightful....
I have been a shut in for 6 weeks now. My sister got me Michelle's book..I was browsing thru it and came to the proposal...kind of delightful...hope you enjoy it..
Barack passed the bar. So we celebrated early, on the very same day he finished the exam, July 31,1999-bookig ourselves a table at a downtown restaurant called Gorden. It was one of our favorite places, a special occasion kind of joint, with soft Art Deco lighting and crisp white tablecloths and things like caviar and artichoke fritters on the menu. It was the height of summer and we were happy
At Gordon, Barack and I always ordered every course. We had martinis and appetizers. We picked a nice wine to o with our entrees. We talked idley, contentedly, maybe a little sappily, as we were reaching the end of the meal, Barack smiled at me and raise the subject of marriage. He reached for my hand and said that as much as he loved me with his whole being, he still didn't really see the point. Instantly, I felt the blood rise in my cheeks. It was like pushing a button in me, the kind of big blinking red button you might find in some sort of nuclear facility surrounded by warning signs and evacuation maps. Really? We were going to do this now?
In fact, we were. We'd had they hypothetical marriage discussion plenty of times already, and nothing much ever changed. I was a traditionalist and Barack was not. It seemed clear that neither one of us could be swayed. But still, this didn't stop us, 2 lawyers after all, from taking up the topic with hot gusto. Surrounded by men in sport coats and women in nice dresses enjoying their fancy meals, I did what I could to keep my voice calm.
" If we're committed, I said , as evenly as I could mister, "Why wouldn't we formalize the commitment? What part of your dignity would be sacrificed by that?"
From here, we traversed all the familiar loops of the old arguments. Did marriage matter? Why did it matter? What was wrong with him? What was wrong with me? What kind of future did we have if we couldn't sort this out? We weren't fighting, but we were quarreling, and doing it attorney-style, we punched and counterpunched, dissected and cross examined, though it was clearly I was more inflamed. It was I who was doing most of the talking.
Eventually our waiter came around holding a dessert plate, covered by a silver lid. He slid it in front of me and lifted the cover. I was almost too miffed to even look down, but when I did, I saw a dark velvet box where the chocolate cake was supposed to be. Inside it was a diamond ring.
Barack looked at me playfully. He'd baited me. It had all been a ruse. It took me a second to dismantle my anger and slide into joyful shock. He'd riled me up because this was the very last time he wold invoke his inane marriage argument, ever again, as long as we both shuld live. The case was closed. He dropped to one knee and then with an emotional hitch in his voice asked sincerely if I'd please do him the honor of marrying him. Later, I'd learned he'd already gone to both my mother and brother to ask for their approval ahead of time. When I said yes, it seemed that every person in the whole restaurant started to clap.
For a full minute or 2, I stared dumbfounded at the ring on my finer. I looked at Barack to confirm that this was all real. He was smiling. He'd completely surprised me. In a way, we'd both won. "Well", " he said litely, "that should shut you up."
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sooooo fucking sweet, and exactly the sass I'd expect from them both!
