My dad and I are two peas in a very strange pod. I've only mentioned that about a thousand times. My husband caught on to that fairly quickly, and I think he has always appreciated it. He does not have a good relationship with his own father, so having my dad around has been good for him, I think.
When my husband and I were still in the earlier stages of dating, something came up about marriage, and I guess I mentioned that asking my dad for my hand was important to me. I have no recollection of this conversation.
One night, my husband (my boyfriend at the time) decided that he wanted to take some movies over to my dad. My husband had never been with my parents without me, and there had been some conflict between them. I was just happy that it seemed like everyone was getting along. He went over there after work, dropped them off, and came home a short time later.
Or so I thought.
The next day, he asked me to marry him. I said yes. Then, I put the pieces together. The movies were a decoy to get over to their house without me. Like the gullible human that I am, I didn't question it. He asked my dad for my hand, and my dad answered in the only that I could ever imagine him answering:
"I'm fine with it, but you'll have to ask her mother."
To this day, I have butterflies when I think about it.
As always, it's hip to be square (and traditional), kids.