So I invited a few friends (he'd want it small) and began to plan. Wow. I don't think I've slept. Here's why. Stephen checks our bank account at least once a day. How was I supposed to pay for anything?
I ordered him a neat photo book of scenery pictures from our last two vacations, paid for it with a credit card and had it sent to a friend's house. Solved? NOPE! He found the email that confirmed shipping! I had to lie and say his mother wanted one because I didn't know it had the mailing name and address on it. I quickly lied again (not my specialty) and said she'd lost her card. Well, she did melt it in the dryer!
I bought the party supplies Friday night but forgot and put it on the debit card. Well, it is a weekend, right? Wrong. Sunday morning I'm greeted with, "So, what'd you get at Party City?" Ah, another lie coming...."Um, it's for our tournament." Safe? Hardly! Hours later he asked again exactly what I'd bought. Grrrrrr.
And then the day comes. I manage to get out of the house, fill my trunk with the goodies with one partner in crime while another partner called with a "flat tire" to use the whole damsel in distress ploy to get him out. What happens? Two guests arrive early and RING THE DOORBELL! Are you kidding me?
Ah, well, here he is enjoying his gifts fit for an old man. It was a success and I'll never forget the look on his face when he took me aside and said in his most romantic voice, "So, how much did this cost?"Not really. He asked that second!
