I am a planner. I have accepted this about myself. If I am not actively planning something I go stir crazy. I can't help it, it's in my blood. When I showed my father the spreadsheets I had compiled for my trip to Disney last year (yes, I really did this) I think he was more proud of me than he had ever been before.
Being engaged was an awesome outlet for my crazy planning shenanigans. I got to plan things for TWO WHOLE YEARS PEOPLE. It was glorious. Then the wedding came and went and I was left without anything to plan. So sad. So boring. And when I get bored, I scheme. And this time, I schemed up something reallll good.
My parents celebrated their 30th wedding anniversary in May. And what better way to celebrate than by throwing them a surprise party?! Perfect. Done. Something new to plan! And so I started planning... I collaborated with my parents' friends and siblings, found a date that worked for everyone and sent out invitations. I even drove three hours upstate (twice!) to check out venues and confirm other such details. I also wanted to have some photos of them throughout the years so I even
In order to lure my parents to the restaurant I told them that the husband and I were coming upstate for the weekend to visit some friends. We wouldn't have time to stop by the house so would they like to meet us in Albany for dinner? They agreed and everything was going perfectly.
Too perfectly.
A few days before the party my dad sent me an email. He was so sorry, but he completely forgot that he had to march in a parade (he is a town board member and often has to attend various town events. Even ridiculous events, like a parade) at the exact time that I had made dinner reservations. Could we maybe push dinner a little later?
Hm. Okay. I start to panic. But just a little bit. I quickly type up a reply.
"No, that won't work for us. We need to meet friend at XYZ time and if we push our dinner any later we won't make it in time. Is the parade really that important? We would really like to see you guys!"
Yep, looks good. I mean, come on... It's just a stupid parade. At that moment I was feeling pretty confident. Until...
"I really can't miss this parade. I gave them my word that I would be there and you know that I hate to break promises like that. I'm really sorry we won't be able to see you guys this time, but you'll be up again soon, right?"
Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Now I'm panicking. Like calling my husband from work in a frenzy kind of panicking. This whole thing is about to blow up in my face and there is only one thing I can do to stop it. I review the game plan with my husband and now rope my brother into it as well. I take a deep breath and type a response.
"Hm. I didn't want to have to tell you this over email, but it's really important that we talk to you in person this weekend. We even arranged for J [my brother] to take a train in from Philadelphia. We were going to pick him from the train station and go straight to the restaurant. Are you sure you absolutely cannot get out of this thing?"
You guys. I felt terrible about this. It was just vague enough that it didn't require me to create some elaborate lie, but just specific enough to freak him out. I had no idea what conclusions he would draw from that email, but I hoped it sounded believable enough that he would cancel his plans (and not see through my complete and utter bullshit).
Waiting for his response was the most excruciating hour of my life. I walked around my office in a state of distress, lamenting my sorry situation to anyone who would listen. And oh did people listen. They were soaking this shit up and thought it was one of the most entertaining things they had ever heard (seriously, these people need to get out more).
And then... The response.
"Ok. I'm sorry I had to pull it out of you this way. I will do what I have to do to get out of this thing and I won't say anything to your mother about this conversation. See you Saturday."
What. Just. Happened.
For five whole days I was inconsolable. I was going to Hell. I just knew it. What's that commandment? Honor your father and mother? Well, this certainly wasn't honorable. But what other choice did I have? After months of secretly sneaking behind their backs I was not going to let it all fall apart over a fucking PARADE.
Saturday came and well...
See for yourself.
My aunt was filming for me. Moments to note: 38 seconds in, where she says, "Your daughter's not pregnant!" and 2:05 where the godforsaken parade was mentioned.
Needless to say, they were surprised.
A good time was had by all.
But I definitely will NOT be hosting another surprise party any time soon. My morals and my blood pressure just can't handle it.
Have you ever hosted a surprise party?
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