a romantic night in paris

A long time ago, in a land far, far away…

(Seriously, we were in France!)

A boy took a girl to Paris. The boy and the girl were in love, and this was their first big trip together. They had never been to Europe, and the trip was exciting. They spent quiet nights in cafes, and days trekking through museums, hand in hand. One night, the boy took the girl to the top of the Eiffel Tower, and all of Paris lay before them, lit up brightly. The girl tingled with anxiety and apprehension, because she knew the boy wanted to marry her. She knew the boy planned to propose soon. She knew that the boy had been to a jeweler to see about a ring before they left for their trip to Europe. She hoped with every breath in her body that tonight would be “the night”.

The boy and the girl admired the lights of Paris, and the night sky, and then…

Nothing happened. The boy and the girl went back to their hotel, and then flew back home. It turned out that the ring wasn’t ready before the trip, so the boy couldn’t propose on the top of the Eiffel Tower, in the middle of the most romantic city in the world. Of course, the girl didn’t know this at the time. She wondered if she had body odor, or some other affliction preventing the boy from asking her to marry him.

That’s why I prefer to live vicariously through romance novels. Boys in romance novels never leave the ring at the jewelers, like my husband did. HA! He tried hard, but he just couldn’t get it together in time for our trip. Romance novels typically have the perfect ending to a tale like mine!

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