When I proposed to Joyce, I asked, "How does April First sound?"
She smiled and said, "Sure!" but I still felt obligated to explain why I thought April Fool's Day would be a good day to get married. So I expounded, "It's my Dad's sixtieth birthday; it would be a nice gesture." I went on to point out all the practicalities: April First fell on a Saturday that year (1978). Also, that gave me about two months to set up household. Joyce immediately liked the idea and insisted that her wedding band be engraved on the inside: "Your April Fool".
At that time Joyce lived in Houston. I was living on-post at Fort Stewart, GA in the BOQ (Bachelor Officers Quarters). Calling it the BOQ sounds better than the full truth: I lived in an on-post single-wide trailer with a drunken middle-aged warrant officer. Even I knew that having Joyce move in with George and me would never work out. George was hard enough to live with when he was sober, but that was the best of it. I figured my bride might take exception to George's showing up armed and loaded (literally and figuratively) and pounding on the bedroom door at 2:00 AM to curse me for locking the trailer door again. I always apologized profusely (which is a good idea when you're dealing with an armed drunk), but secretly, I actually enjoyed hearing George hit the ground in those wee hours when he fell off the trailer house steps.
But back to my point. Figuring George and Joyce would not hit it off, in the two months between my proposing and the wedding, I found a newly built apartment in Savannah, bought a bed, moved in, and had a phone line installed. When we arrived "home" from our whirlwind honeymoon across the Old South, we didn't even have chairs to sit on. The only thing my pretty girl got when she married me was, well ... me.
That engraving was apt - she is indeed my April Fool. And despite all the evidence I've given her that she made a mistake, that sweet thing hasn't gotten any wiser yet.
She smiled and said, "Sure!" but I still felt obligated to explain why I thought April Fool's Day would be a good day to get married. So I expounded, "It's my Dad's sixtieth birthday; it would be a nice gesture." I went on to point out all the practicalities: April First fell on a Saturday that year (1978). Also, that gave me about two months to set up household. Joyce immediately liked the idea and insisted that her wedding band be engraved on the inside: "Your April Fool".
At that time Joyce lived in Houston. I was living on-post at Fort Stewart, GA in the BOQ (Bachelor Officers Quarters). Calling it the BOQ sounds better than the full truth: I lived in an on-post single-wide trailer with a drunken middle-aged warrant officer. Even I knew that having Joyce move in with George and me would never work out. George was hard enough to live with when he was sober, but that was the best of it. I figured my bride might take exception to George's showing up armed and loaded (literally and figuratively) and pounding on the bedroom door at 2:00 AM to curse me for locking the trailer door again. I always apologized profusely (which is a good idea when you're dealing with an armed drunk), but secretly, I actually enjoyed hearing George hit the ground in those wee hours when he fell off the trailer house steps.
But back to my point. Figuring George and Joyce would not hit it off, in the two months between my proposing and the wedding, I found a newly built apartment in Savannah, bought a bed, moved in, and had a phone line installed. When we arrived "home" from our whirlwind honeymoon across the Old South, we didn't even have chairs to sit on. The only thing my pretty girl got when she married me was, well ... me.
That engraving was apt - she is indeed my April Fool. And despite all the evidence I've given her that she made a mistake, that sweet thing hasn't gotten any wiser yet.
2 comments:
Ahhh... true love...
What a sweet memory.
So adorable and so sweet. You're lucky to have that gal
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