I had to laugh at two articles I found in the New York Post today. The first is from a young lady who's working towards an engagement ring.
My boyfriend, Eric, is the gourmet cook in our relationship, but he’d always want me to make him a sandwich.
Each morning, he would ask, “Honey, how long you have been awake?”
“About 15 minutes,” I’d reply.
“You’ve been up for 15 minutes and you haven’t made me a sandwich?”
To him, sandwiches are like kisses or hugs. Or sex. “Sandwiches are love,” he says. “Especially when you make them. You can’t get a sandwich with love from the deli.”
One lazy summer afternoon just over a year ago, I finally gave in. I assembled turkey and Swiss on toasted wheat bread. I spread Dijon mustard generously on both bread slices, and I made sure the lettuce was perfectly in line with the neatly stacked turkey slices.
Eric devoured the sandwich as if it were a five-star meal, diving in with large, eager bites. “Babes, this is delicious!” he exclaimed.
As he finished that last bite, he made an unexpected declaration of how much he loved me and that sandwich: “Honey, you’re 300 sandwiches away from an engagement ring!”
There's more at the link.
The second article is by her boyfriend/partner/almost-fiancé.
Now, a year and a half in, and with less than 100 sandwiches to go, not a day passes without yet another fresh reminder from friends, family, or random people in the queue at Citarella that we creep closer to the finish line, that I’d better be ready, and that now there’s a crowd watching. (“Yes, I’m aware. Thank you.”)
. . .
I already know that in the eyes of the public, the stone will never be flawless enough, the ring never shiny enough and the proposal never perfect enough to satisfy the impeccable taste and boundless prowess of Internet commenters.
And after 300 tasty, lovingly made and beautifully documented sandwiches — a herculean yet unnecessary gesture — how could I possibly measure up? How could my proposal be thoughtful, original, memorable and beautiful enough to equal or surpass the scale of effort she’s given me?
. . .
A 300 dancer Bollywood proposal spectacular?
300 John Cusacks with boomboxes overhead?
A 300-member flashmob gospel choir?
A combination of the three? I’m stumped. So I hereby request the creative genius of the all-knowing and infinitely wise Internet: Tweet me your ideas at @mr300sandwiches and help contribute to the greatest proposal extravaganza ever.
Again, more at the link.
I recommend both articles as heart-warming reading. If the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, I'd say she's doing pretty well . . .