Surprises are like pimples; the host wants no one to tell until the final burst! The only problem is that the longer the plans are being developed, the more of a chance the victim will find out, either because some annoying child can hold the truth in as much as his bladder or because the target overheard a forbidden conversation.
This was not the case for my 23rd birthday party. Married (with me!), expecting and mischievous, my wife, Jenn, concocted one of the most complicated surprises, with as many layers as the Grand Canyon!
First, she ensured that I would have a work appointment at 5:00 PM, so that I’d arrive at the rendezvous point at approximately 8:00 PM, with all her minions (our friends) waiting to pounce the surprise on me. Not only that, she also used our friend Becky, who said the night was only a barbecue to celebrate the coming summer; Becky canceled and rescheduled the night to mislead me even more. Finally, because I got back from my appointment an hour early, Jenn quickly arranged a haircut with my barber, telling me that before arriving, I better have a fresh blade applied to my scalp.
On top of this, to prolong my entry, I had to pick up friends who lived en route to the party location. Flustered, because I was a half-hour late to the grill out, I knocked on the door, noticing the lights were off, and before I could critically surmise why, the lights beamed on several happy faces shouting “SURPRISE!” while munching on the most scrumptious finger eats: seasoned waffle fries, BBQ chicken strips and a cheesy meat-dip.
I immediately gazed fixedly into my bride’s lustrous eyes, kissed and thanked her. As someone who is never surprised, this covert feat actually stunned and impressed me.