By Molly Hawkins

When I was 8 years old, I proposed to Eeyore at Walt Disney World. He didn’t exactly say “yes” but, then again, he didn’t  say “no” either. Actually, he didn’t say anything at all. It was very confusing.

It was my first time to Disney World, and the highlight of the trip was that my parents had scored us tickets to a fancy lunch at The Crystal Palace in the Magic Kingdom, where we would be greeted by the characters of Winnie-the-Pooh.

I faked moderate enthusiasm as the other Pooh characters each came around to take a turn at our table; Tigger, Pooh, and Piglet all took pictures with me and my brother and signed our little autograph books. Finally, I nearly exploded as I saw Eeyore coming down the aisle toward our table. He was just as I had imagined: big eyes, floppy tail, fuzzy snout the color of peaches. Only somehow, this Eeyore could walk on his hind legs. But, of course, I didn’t question that.

After the picture was taken and the autograph book signed, I walked up to him, put my hand on his snout, and stared up into his big, plastic eyes.

“Eeyore, will you marry me?” I asked.

My parents laughed and made subtle apologetic gestures toward him. Eeyore stayed rooted to the spot, most likely trying to remember what he had learned in mascot class that would help him deal with this situation. In the end, he patted me on the head, shrugged his shoulders, turned, and walked off.

Of course, being 8, I got over it relatively quickly. The sight of all of the plush Eeyores in the windows of the Magic Kingdom shops was enough to distract me from my rejection by the real one. Little did I know that, by the next summer, I would have moved on to my new crush, and would find myself down on one knee in front of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer at a Christmas-themed amusement park, only to get similarly disappointing results.

My parents promised me that, someday, I would meet someone whom I would love far more than Rudolph, even more than Eeyore.

At the time, I didn’t believe them.