Category: Engaged

Engagement can be a bit like romantic purgatory for some, but at least you get to test drive a ring.


Inviting Some Brotherly Trouble

| Cupertino, CA, USA | Engaged

(I am at lunch with my parents, boyfriend, brother, and his new wife of just over a month. My boyfriend have been together and lived together for quite a while and people joke we’re an ‘old married couple’ already. We are getting legally married in a few months in a very small ceremony at my parents’ house with a friend officiating. We haven’t told many people yet, aside from the couple of friends and family who will be in attendance, as we don’t feel like it’s a big deal, and also because we didn’t want to steal the thunder from my brother and his now-wife. When we ordered our wedding rings online we also got a simple band with some microscopic diamonds for me as an engagement ring of sorts. I’m fond of it though I rarely wear it. Most of the way through the meal my brother notices it on my finger.)

Brother: “Oh, look; you have a ring now, too!”

Me: “Oh, you haven’t seen it yet? Amazon! But yeah, we’ve had it for… a while. I’m trying to learn to wear it sometimes.”

Mom: “It’s so she can actually remember.”

Boyfriend: “Exactly! She’s training herself to get used to the idea.”

(We all laugh. A couple hours later when we have gone our separate ways and are running errands.)

Boyfriend: “Wait. You did remember to tell your brother we’re getting married, right? That wasn’t how he found out?”

Me: “Uhm. I think so? Wait, yes. It came up, because I remember mentioning we were keeping things quiet so we didn’t pull focus from his wedding. But I don’t remember if I ever told him we picked a date?”

Boyfriend: “We should probably tell them.”

Me: “We should, so they know to be there. You told your brother, right? I think I remember you saying you did?”

Boyfriend: “Uhm… I’m PRETTY sure I did. Ah, crap.”

(After we got home we both talked to our brothers to make sure they knew. They’ll be there.)


That Totally Ryyyks

| MI, USA | Engaged

(I am sitting in the living room, just chilling before work.)

Me: *lets out a long fart*

Fiancé: “You sound like Chewbacca.”


Very Punful

| Engaged, Punny

(My fiancé and I are in the middle of being intimate. She is known as being a klutz and we joke that risking personal injury is a part of marrying her. She accidentally digs her hip into my inner thigh very hard.)

Me: *groans in pain*

Fiancé: “Oh, I’m so sorry!”

Me: “Well, at least I know you haven’t been replaced by pod people, or a clone, or an alien replicant or anything. You’re still you.”

Fiancé: “Yeah, my hips don’t lie!”

Me: *groans at the pun, laughs, kisses her*


Being Not Always Romantic While Trying To Not Always Work… As A Cat

| Toronto, ON, Canada | Engaged

(I work from home, at the same computer I use for leisure, and this takes place around the time I usually end my morning routine and get to work. My fiancée will occasionally pretend to be a cat for laughs.)

Fiancée: “Am cat. Am snuggling you when you’re trying to work.”

Me: “Actually, I haven’t quite started work yet.”

Fiancée: “Oh. Am cat, am snuggling you when you’re trying to do stuff?”

Me: “I’m not even really trying to do anything right now either. I’m just reading Not Always Working.”


Starting This Marriage With A Fresh Sheet

| San Francisco, CA, USA | Engaged

(I am marrying my fiancée in two days. We have just left a dinner with my extended family, including some out-of-towners whom she has never met before.)

Fiancée: “Ugh, I ate too much. I just want to get into bed.”

Me: “Well, the bad news is, the bedsheets only just came out of the dryer before we left. We’ll have to put them on first.”

Fiancée: “Double ugh. I HATE doing bedsheets.”

Me: “I’ll make you a deal: you hang all the other clean laundry and I’ll handle the bedsheets.”

Fiancée: “Deal! And don’t forget to throw your shirt in the wash! You spilled some sauce on it and you don’t want the stain to set in.”

(We get home and begin our chores.)

Me: “I don’t have enough dirty clothes to run with this shirt. Do you have anything you need washed?”

Fiancée: “Uh… Just, everything I’m wearing. Throw yours in, too; it’ll make a load.”

(We strip naked, and I toss everything into the laundry machine. Then I get back to the business of putting bedsheets on the bed.)

Fiancée: “Ugh, I ate too much. I need to exercise. And I haven’t pooped in a couple of days. I’m just gonna do some jumping jacks over here.”

(She does.)

Fiancée: “Can’t do this with my boobs flopping around.”

Me: “Do you want me to hold them in place for you? Or get you a sports bra or something?”

Fiancée: “Ha-ha. No, I’ll hold on to them myself. I’ll just only do the ‘jumping’ part of the jumping jacks.”

(She does.)

Fiancée: “I need to poop…”

(She hurries to the bathroom.)

Fiancée: “Ha! I figured out how to get out of helping you put sheets on the bed!”

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