Okay– I’m the world’s WORST secret keeper.
I admit it.
Lots of examples on the blog, on FB, on Twitter.
My gift selection sucks wind (unless I’m knitting for you and then it’s awesome by virtue of I said it was awesome so there) and odds are good I’ll tell you what your gift is WAY BEFORE you get it.
Sometimes, I’ll just casually drop the name of the store… you know, like SUNGLASS HUT. The store where I bought maybe a camp stove, right?
Oi.
So bad.
Anyway–so let’s see how long this lasts.
Mate’s birthday is Saturday– and I want to do cupcakes for him for both of his teams– let’s see if I can get that done, right?
But other than that, “What do you want for your birthday, Mate?”
*thinks about King’s season tickets and the iPhone 7 he wants for Christmas and the fact that his car has broken down majorly in the past month* “Nothing. What do you want for your birthday, Amy?”
*Amy thinks about her last yarn purchase and all the pretty pictures she bought at Yaoi-Con and the yarn she purchased this year and will continue to purchase while knitting as fast as humanly possible* “Uh, nothing. Nothing but date night, my beloved. And, of course, steak.”
So, steak and a movie it shall be, and sometimes the oldies are the classics because they’re the best, right?
But I had a brain SPARK today, as opposed to a brain FART which is most days, and I got him a present.
See– how long has he been a coach? Since Zoomboy was 4? That makes this his 8th year coaching.
And usually he’s had an assistant coach who was sort of in charge of “carrying shit” but he’s also had the thing down– he knew how to carry the player bench, the bag of soccer balls, the pop up tent, and his coach’s bag all in one trip, and me and the kids would grab our chairs and waters and yarn bags and away we’d go.
But see? All the OTHER parents have these handy dandy collapsible wagons. Mate USED to have a wagon– non collapsible–that he used until it collapsed, never to move again.
But MATE, he’s all like, “I can get that. I can get that. No worries. Just another trip to the car.”
It’s so dumb. All the money we spend on mom’s coffee and yarn, on sweatshirts and goofy T-shirts, but a relatively inexpensive collapsible wagon? Not even on our list.
So I bought him one for his birthday.
Now, usually, he doesn’t read the blog, because I tell him EVERYTHING. I mean everything. Things like, “Geez, Amy, I love you but the blow by blow of your colonoscopy was unnecessary. And seriously– a nap is a nap is a nap.”
So I”m going to post it here, because it’s TOO GOOD. And I know exactly how I’m going to give it to him.
Every Saturday morning he moves his stuff from the back of his station wagon to the back of my minivan.
It’s going to be waiting in the back of the minivan with a card.
Surprise!
So let’s see if we can make it work, shall we?
Hee hee hee… shh… don’t tell Mate!
