Summary: If you’re reading this, it means my 29-year-old son proposed to his longtime girlfriend last weekend. If you’re not reading this, it means he chickened out. My deadline for a Tuesday column is Friday at noon, so I’m writing this without knowing if he actually went through with it. He seemed pretty determined, though, so I decided to take the chance of writing something that might never be published. If he gags, I’ll just disown him.
