The first time DH proposed was on our first Valentine's day together. I was only 17 and was about to start uni. He proposed more out of fear of losing me than anything else. He thought I'd meet someone else at uni who I had more in common with (DH isn't academic at all). I'll give him credit, he had a ring and got down on one knee and everything, but I said no. He knew that the ring he'd bought was too big anyway.

He proposed a few more times over the years, but never again in a way I chose to take seriously (by SMS or over the phone).

We'd been together almost 4 years when he again proposed 'properly'. We'd looked a rings a couple of months before so I knew it was coming and he knew he'd get a yes this time. It turns out that I picked out the same ring that he'd already chosen anyway. We were driving to the south east of SA on boxing day. DH's grandparents own a property in the middle of nowhere right on the beach and we usually spent some time around new year's down there. A third of the way there just past Tailem Bend, the car broke down - the engine completely seized. DH called RAA, we got picked up and taken into Tailem Bend to wait for a tow truck to take us back to Adelaide. While we were waiting outside of the mechanic's garage DH went to get something out of the back of the car. He asked me to sit on his lap and gave me one of those rose-shaped ring boxes. When I opened it he said "Will you marry me?"

DH hates me telling this story though. He had plans to propose at sunset on the beach that night and is still disappointed that things didn't go to plan. I think it was an omen. He proposed in a broken down car and currently our house is surrounded by cars that are broken down and he is repairing.