I’ve never really understood his fascination with Pokemon. Neither the cartoons – which he religiously watches – nor the game itself.
He plays. All. The. Time.
It drives me nuts, sometimes, but it’s a part of him, so I deal with it.
Today, I plan on using it to my advantage.
The show’s over. My heart’s beating rapidly, my palms are sweaty, and I’m nearly hyperventilating as I grab the ball and turn to him.
His smile turns to a confused frown.
He opens it, the paper slip popping out.
He whispers the words, “I Choose You!”
“Marry me, Edward?”