Windshield Wipers and Proposals
As I contemplated asking Susan Appleberry to marry me* in 1990, I had a few friends ask if I had received her father’s permission. My knowledge of marital laws was negligible – and the internet didn’t exist to confirm or deny — so I thought they were kidding. As the day approached, I learned they were serious.
*By ‘contemplating,’ I mean wondering how embarrassed I would be when she said ‘no’ in front of a bunch of people.
So as we loaded up my 1982, four-speed Mustang GT with a 302 HO engine at Susan’s parent’s house to head to Columbia, MO** and the eventual proposal, I hastily asked Bob Appleberry to come look at my malfunctioning windshield wipers. Bob was well aware of — and likely highly perturbed at — my mechanical incompetence, so he agreed to take a look. We got to my car, and I admitted that I had an ulterior motive for luring him away from his daughter and wife.
**I mention the car in such detail because it was one of the two reasons that Susan would consider saying ‘yes’ to my long-shot proposal. The other was my Brittany Spaniel, Yogi.
Anyway, my windshield wiper malfunction issue was just a ruse to pull Bob aside and ask this question:
“May I have permission to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage?”
My flummoxed prospective father-in-law thought about it, then responded, “Well, let’s take a look at these wipers first.”***
***My future father-in-law never really did consent to my RFP (request for proposal). But he didn’t deny, either. Therefore, I proceeded with my efforts at attempting to marry up.
Fast forward to one bitterly cold and dark evening this winter, some 35 years after my bumbling attempt at permission-gathering. While Abbey Widick was out of town, Sean Moise visited our home under the guise of borrowing something or, more likely, adding to the items Abbey already has in perpetual storage at the parental abode.
At some point in the charade, Sean gathered Susan and me in the kitchen, and from somewhere still unbeknownst to me presented a box containing a brand-new, OEM quality, Good Year branded, Ceramic Titanium Beam Blade windshield wiper and proceeded to ask for assistance at his car for its installation. I, like Bob Appleberry three decades ago, was flummoxed … not at Sean’s incompetence to fix the issue himself, but in his belief that I was 1) capable of assisting and 2) interested in doing so in this aforementioned Arctic tundra weather pattern. I was completely unaware of the ruse Sean was perpetuating on me, as was my future father-in-law all those years ago.
“Dammit” was all I could mutter when Sean had to come right out and ask for Susan’s and my blessing in marrying our daughter. Not “dammit” as in “Dammit, I don’t want her marrying you” but as in “dammit, I wanted to have a good comeback when this day came.” Instead, he pulled one over on me.
So, for now, Sean-1, Darrin-0. But eventually, I’ll get even. After all, he is going to marry that gal who still uses her childhood bedroom and one full spare bedroom as a storage unit. One day soon, all of this will be his problem to deal with. ****
****Which means — in case you were off the social media grid last weekend and/or not text buddies with Susan or Julie – he asked, and she said yes last weekend. We’re incredibly lucky to have Sean in the family. And I’m looking forward to getting even with him.
