Many months passed before I got up the courage to ask again. I feared that she might sustain more bodily harm, should I tempt fate and ask her again. In the meantime, I had procured a replacement ring with much more significance attached: the ring had belonged to my Grandmother, who had passed away the previous winter. I often brought it out in secret, looking at it in search of bravery.
I waited until Halloween to pop the question; I popped the ring in a pumpkin! I was sneaky about it, however. I cut a small hole in the bottom and dropped the ring into the orange-pumpkin-gut bowl. Then, I closed the hole with the same piece I had extracted, and put it on the table. Lets carve pumpkins tonight! I screamed, when she came home. Umm, ok.
It seemed an eternity before she struck pumpkin gold. I grew impatient, and sweaty. I had almost forgot about the ring entirely, when she started to freak out. Nick, there is something wierd in here! Really, what is it? She pulled it out and screamed. I got down on one knee and she said yes! The ring, this time, fit perfectly.