Holy Fucking Shit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sultan and I have been married 11 1/2 years. Our engagement was the shortest in history, well maybe aside from the time Britney Spears married that guy in Vegas.. From the time we met and got married was less than 6 months. And no, contrary to the style of couples who screw and then end up on a "Who's My Baby Daddy?" episode of Maury Povich, I was not knocked up. Sorry to diappoint. It was just love that made us want to make it legit....too legit to quit.

Our original rings were really simple, a small band with three teeny, tiny little stones. Were they even diamonds? Not sure. All I needed was my man, who wants a fancy ring? Okay, okay. Those of you that know me know I think that's a crock of horse shit. Of COURSE I want a giant, blingtastic, Elizabeth Taylor-style diamond ring that I need a Segway scooter just to drag my heavy-ass hand around on. And any chick who tells you, "Oh I just want something delicate and simple. Nothing too big for me, please," is a God damn liar. Just like with a man's dick, size DOES matter. For those of you with embarrassingly small wee wees, I am sorry. Wait, no I'm not. That's your problem.

I got a nice diamond after I gave birth to Isabella. My friends call this a "pain and suffering gift". Fast forward four years and the damn thing cracks in half. No shit. The asswipe store that sold it to Sultan (Jeweler's Row in Chicago) told him, "Hey, you're lucky! You have a really strong wife who can CRACK A DIAMOND!!" I don't do hard labor, I don't cook with cast iron over open fire, I don't work in a steel mill, I do not wear my ring when I bench press at the gym. How in the hell does a diamond, the hardest substance known to man, crack in a ring on my finger?! Probably 'cause they sold us a jacked diamond in the first place. No refund, it was our fault (my ass) and our insurance company told us we were screwed, too. Joy.

Since this little incident I have been sporting one of several fake, yes FAKE, "diamond" rings for awhile now. There, it's out there like an 18 year-old who just came out to his parents at the Sunday dinner table. I'm not a fraud, I just was waiting until the time when I could have my real diamond in all it's dazzling glory. I like 'em big and that requires some waiting and patience. I was a good girl, I deserved it. So I waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiited a long long long long long long time...

Sultan and I went to a jewelry trunk show several months ago. I found the ring of my dreams (aaahhhh!! Insert angelic voices here). It was beautiful, like a cupcake sitting atop my finger, surrounded by angelic little pave diamonds. We did not buy it then and there, this was a decision that required some thinking. My thoughts----"Hell yeah! Buy that shit for me already!!!!!"
Sultan's thoughts---"Umm, we need to figure this out. It's an investment and I need to consider it." Blah blah blah. I was like a kid at Toys 'R' Us when Cabbage Patch Kids just arrived. Now I'm seriously showing my age here....

So there we were on our Hawaiian vacation, enjoying the trip of our dreams. (On a sort of digression, Sultan has worked his little ass off to be able to do this for our family. It sometimes makes me feel bad when I tell people all the great stuff we get to do. But we have been through a lot together to get to this point. I can't apologize for it, I know I am blessed. Sultan seriously came to his country with the shirt on his back and not much else. He is the American dream. He has worked from minimum wage to where he is now. We have been through hell and back with immigration and plenty of other shit. We have earned every ounce of where we are now. I am appreciative, not spoiled. And maybe a little lucky, too..) We were able to experience AMAZING adventures as a family. Kayaking down a spectacular river, hiking through a tropical forest, going on a breath-taking helicopter ride, going to a luau, riding on a sunset cruise and seeing dolphins and whales swimming right up to our boat. Sultan became Mr. Photographer, lugging his camera backpack, assortment of various tripods, lenses, cameras, video camera, and books on photography. We had to see the Waimea Canyon, the "Grand Canyon" of the Hawaiian islands for some photo opportunities. I grew sort of suspicious when Sultan shaved three days in a row. If he is not working and appearing before clients, Sultan turns into grizzly bear lumberjack boy. A little bristly to kiss. He turned the video camera on as he panned the view of the canyon. His view settled on me, slightly annoyed from hearing the kids whine, "This is SSSSOOOOOOOOOOO BORING!!!!" for 20 minutes.
Sultan got very serious, "Molly, you know how much I love you, right?"
Me, "Uh, yeah.."
Sultan, "And you know how much you mean to me, right?"
Me, "Uh-huh..."
Sultan, "And you know how there's something you have been wanting for a really long time.."
Me," SHUT UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Sultan, "Well reach in my pocket because I have something for you.."
Me, "NO WAY!!!!!!!!"
There it was, my ring, my diamond cupcake, my symbol of love, in all it's dazzling, blinding glory. Holy fucking shit!!!!!!!
I have not stopped smiling since. Okay, the Chicago weather made me a little pissed off but who needs sun when you have sunshine in an antique pave setting on your finger?!!!