Skipah’s PSA for the day. Do not grab a skillet with a metal handle that has just spent 20 minutes in the oven at a robust 425 degrees Fahrenheit. (That’s 218 Celsius for my British Buddies). Definitely don’t do it with your dominant hand! I’ve got a right ring finger that looks like it’s harboring a fugitive and possibly will not have fingerprints ever again. Might be time to start a new career as the “Ring Finger Bandit” not sure what capers I could pull off with just a ring finger, but it would be untraceable and a hell of lot of fun trying!
I created new words to describe the pain I was in! Is that not the sexiest right hand you have ever seen?
My left ring finger was thankful my stupidity brought turmoil and pain to his brother. It is on its best behavior right now as it prepares for a different kind of branding soon. These recent days of single digit weather has made my left ringer finger shivering and just wishing for its own gold blanket, so I did something about it this weekend! Soon my left ring finger will be the envy of many a ring finger when it gets fitted for its own version of gold. In what is assuredly going to shatter the record for most mentions of ring finger in a paragraph, I’ll end the suspense and just say it. The Skipah is getting married!
Hmm…….I hope the folks at Shane Co. don’t realize this box is missing for a few more weeks!
The next time Miss Madison and I are out at “da club” or at a wedding reception, if I hear the D.J. playing some Beyonce and she starts blurting out “All The Single Ladies” Miss Madison can go check her Facebook status instead of making “innuendos” towards me. I put a ring on it, and much to my surprise she didn’t say no! For one night in our otherwise mundane lives we even got to own Facebook in our little neck of the woods. I truly believe half of cyberspace stalks us, because once the status was known our cell phones turned into digital versions of The Boston Pops for a little bit with all the notifications we were getting.
Did I do good? Bad?
I guess the divorced dad blogger shtick is going to need a little fine tuning in the future. This blogger isn’t going anywhere, but I might have to update some bios about myself. My daughter knew a week ago, when I took her home and she again requested if she could live with me. I think she is happier that Miss Madison is going to be her stepmom than the fact that her dad is getting married. I had to make a promise to her though that she gets to witness it. (Which was the plan anyway.) She is still a tad bitter on how she got her other stepdad.
As with my previous engagement, this one went off with plenty of bumps. Mr. Skipah, the romantic, wanted to get dressed up and go to our favorite Madison, Indiana hangout that we discovered together and treat as our place. Strike one was the getting dressed up part. No big deal, we were still off to the G. H. Coffee Company for some of the finest food (we thought) in town.
Who wouldn’t want to get engaged after eating something like this!
Strike two was the night shift cared more about getting everything packed up for the evening three hours early! The evening staff at the coffee shop was about as friendly as a wild boar. To add to the misery, whoever was doing the cooking that night should rethink a career running the fryers at Dairy Queen. We were both a tad miffed that our favorite place in town suddenly decided to have me on the brink of a crappy Yelp review. Hey asshats, don’t you know I’m trying to propose here! With the mood ruined and a diamond ring literally going nuclear in my pocket, I was trying to improvise on the fly.
Since it was a balmy five degrees outside, I told Miss Madison of the rumor that the Ohio River was frozen over and her curiosity immediately had her wanting to go check it out. Of course, the river wasn’t frozen over, nor was there a van down by the river. Come to think about it, there wasn’t anybody by the river. So, the gazebo where we first met was immediately out of the question because she probably would have questioned my sanity if I suggested we get out and walk around. Not quite strike three, in my mind I fouled that one off just enough to see another pitch.
Running out of ideas quickly on the way home, and this ring in the beginning stages of a supernova now, I suggested we pull over underneath the frozen waterfall at Hanging Rock Hill. I gave her some blogger mumbo jumbo about what a great picture it would be for my blog. This waterfall is quite the little hidden treasure in this part of town and what local girl wouldn’t want to tell the story of their engagement under it? I can tell you one that doesn’t! Again, it is worth mentioning the meat in your freezer was probably warmer than the outside air temps. I swung and missed on that one and all hope for Skipah the modern day Don Juan, was relegated to, “Dammit, I’ve got to propose again at the house!”
I’m sure some young Eskimo lass would find this ideal!
I’ve done this proposal thing twice now and both times my super-duper fool proof plan has been foiled and had to be done at the hacienda. I at least waited until we were in our birthday suits pj’s to pop the question. She did her best Chad Brock impersonation and much to my surprise she said yes.
About it for now, we are debating if we should get married in Newport, Rhode Island or London, England and that takes a tons of time to plan! I might have made that last sentence up, typing this post without a right ring finger available has me suffering from ring finger fatigue! I will get the research department on this ASAP to see if I can submit this to the Guinness World Record Committee for the most times ring finger has been mention in a blog post!