“He Proposed at Cebolla’s... During My Sister’s Birthday Dinner”

Let me set the scene: It’s a Friday night in Fort Wayne. We’re at Cebolla’s on Coldwater; not because we’re fancy, but because it’s my sister’s favorite spot and we always go there to celebrate her birthday. She’s been talking about this dinner all week. She even bought new earrings. She’s a Leo. You get it.

 

We’re all there; me, my boyfriend Nate, my sister (the birthday girl), our parents, her new boyfriend Drew (who still calls queso “cheese soup,” bless him), and even our grandma who only drinks “ice water with a lemon wedge and a prayer.”

 

Everything’s going fine. Fajitas are sizzling. Margaritas are flowing. No one has spilled salsa in a purse yet.

 

Then… as the waiter drops off my sister’s complimentary churro plate and we start singing “Happy Birthday” (yes, at the table), Nate stands up. Stands. Up.

 

I’m thinking he’s going to take a photo or something. Nope.

He reaches into his jacket pocket, pulls out a tiny velvet box, turns to me… and proposes.

 

Right there, at the table. While my sister is holding a balloon that says “Another Year Hotter.”

 

I was shocked. Not because I didn’t want to marry him (we’ve been together for three years and already own a Costco membership  together), nut because… really? On my sister’s birthday? At a Tex-Mex chain restaurant? With churro dust in the air?

 

I said yes. What else was I supposed to do? Grandma was already dabbing her eyes with a tortilla. But my sister? She put down her churro plate, said “Well… okay then,” and didn’t say a word for the rest of the night.

 

Now she won’t text me back. My mom says it “wasn’t ideal," but that I should “just let it go.” Nate says I’m being dramatic. He claims it was romantic  because “no one expects a proposal at Cebolla’s,” and that I “love a surprise.”

 

I do love a surprise. I also love not hijacking someone else’s birthday.