So here's the thing about me... I want to love surprises. I love the idea of surprises. I love the end result of surprises. I don't do so well when I anticipate there might be a surprise coming. Such was the case with my birthday last week.
My husband was able to secure an afternoon and evening off of work - a true gift in and of itself, and I assured him that all I wanted was a quiet night in with him and my family. And he assured me that was what we would have. As the day progressed, however, I began to sense that there may be more going on. Small things friends would say... or not say, overly descriptive texts about our plans... they started to make me wonder, and they started to stress me. I started slyly asking my beloved friends what they were doing that evening, and they began to squirm. Hubbers finally texted me and nicely told me to leave people the hell alone and just enjoy my day.
When I arrived home, I was delighted to find our condo door bedecked with arts and crafts and our living room swathed in stars and streamers. I found my husband cooking up a storm in the kitchen with a glass of wine in hand for me. I lounged on the couch - kind of... I was very antsy and asking too many questions, and finally heard a knock on the door. I excitedly let my family in and thought we were having the at-home celebration I'd requested.
Every few minutes, though, there would be another knock on the door, and our home steadily filled with friends. Like a reverse surprise party, since I had no idea who would come next. When it felt like we'd hit critical mass, we feasted on some chef-prepared lettuce wraps, unwrapped gifts (well I did that... it wasn't a group activity) and sipped wine and beer.
The hubbers entered the room, clapped his hands and asked if we were ready to go. I was confused, but everyone else immediately headed for their cars, and we were whisked off on a mystery adventure. I began to worry when we arrived in a back alley Uptown right behind the Rescue Mission. But my fears soon subsided when I spotted The Party Pedaler... a communal bike, type contraption with a built-in bar. I soon learn that we'd been atop that vehicle for the night doing a bar crawl around Charlotte.
Y'all. This was seriously the most fun. We pedaled all around Uptown on a gorgeous night stopping to drink along the way, singing Wicked show tunes or Xtina hits on the microphone and just being all around ridiculous. I know I was such a pain to deal with as I tried to control every plan and figure out every surprise, but my husband knocked it out of the park and made sure that 26 started on an amazing note.