I’ve had three friends text me today saying that February 29, leap day, is the day in which women are traditionally allowed to ask a man to marry them. They told me that I should consider it.
It is not very reassuring that so many people think of me on what could be renamed as “desperate day.”
According to legend, St. Bridget complained to St. Patrick that women should have just as much right in the relationship to make the monumental matrimony decision, and so St. Patrick set aside this day for female proposals.
This is my question: why are saints talking about marriage? It sounds so very unsaint-like. Can you imagine the conversation?
Bridget says, “Hey Patty, don’t you think we girls should be able to take the reins for a while? Ask our men if we can get hitched?” (As a side note here: does anyone know why marriage proposals have so many allusions to horses?)
Patty retorts “My dear Bridget, have you forgotten? We’re both saints. We’re not supposed to talk about this stuff. ” Batting her eyelashes, Briget says, “Come on Patty, for meeeee? ” Again, not very saintlike. Patrick says “Okay Bridget, here’s my offer: I’ll give you one day every four years where proposals are lady friendly. Take it or leave it.”
How very generous of him.
Here is another fact: leap year day was the day that women were allowed to wear breaches. So we see who was wearing the pants in the family one day out of 1,460. Us, that’s who. Take that you breach wearers!
Over the years, traditions came with leap day. If the man refused the proposal, he had to give the woman something. A kiss, a gown, or the most popular, twelve pairs of gloves.
The gloves were supposed to be put on to hide your hands so people wouldn’t notice that you didn’t have an engagement ring on. I don’t think I would even notice the absence of an engagement ring. I’d be thinking “man, that girl has freaking big hands.”
I am considering asking a few guys to marry me just because I need some new gloves. I live in Colorado, but I am too frugal to buy gloves anywhere but the dollar store. I hate having cold hands, but those leather ones are expensive. I mean, twelve pairs of gloves is a lot of gloves.
Any of you men out there want a cute little songwriting redhead to propose to you? There’s only one hitch: (again a horse reference. What is happening here?) you have to say no. And then you have to buy me lots of gloves. Any takers?
Am I going to make a spiritual parallel in this post? No, no I’m not. It is a completely shallow post, and I like it that way.
Happy desperate day, everyone!