I hate to brag, but Tom is pretty lucky to have me as a wife (in some ways, in other ways, a pox be upon him for eternity). One particular reason he's lucky: I LOVE surprises. I don't like my surprises spoiled, I don't go snooping, I don't even like to entertain thoughts about what my surprises could be. I sincerely love being surprised. Good surprises that is, not "Surprise! Those are gallstones."
I'm serious. I take surprises über seriously. In fact, if this sounds like you during movies or television, "Is he dead? She's going to leave him. He's his father isn't he?" then I take issue with you too. If you wanted to play 20 questions or the "Aren't I clever game" you should have chosen that activity for your date night. Just calm down you Santa beard pullers, there may be magic yet!
I take surprises so seriously that I even get irrationally annoyed when the person doing the surprising doesn't cover their tracks well. When I was a little girl, during christmas one year my mom asked me to go and get groceries out of her trunk. There with all of the groceries was the Totally Hair Barbie I had requested for Christmas. When I came inside with the groceries it took everything in me not to cry out, "Seriously! Did you even try?" And stomp off. I realize that the poor, wonderful woman did her best and that it was in fact be me being turbo crazy, but it illustrates again how much I esteem surprises.
Anyway, this was all just to say that Tom did a fantastic job at surprising me with snow tubing this St. Valentine's Massacre day. Fun was had, and so was a delicious dinner. I hope everybody opens their hearts and minds to surprises this year, good ones, hopefully. Who knows? Maybe you'll get a Totally Hair Ken?