As I was cleaning my kitchen floor on my hands and knees, a strange memory came to me.
Hans visited me in New Haven, CT a few years ago. He commented that my kitchen floor was sticky. I replied, "I know! It's hopeless!"
He proceeded to search for a mop. Together, we discovered that my floor was actually white, not some grayish-yellow.
He then proceeded to ask me to marry him a couple days later. He must have known I needed him then, and I still do.