Surviving the early birthday surprise: Patience, grasshopper
|For the record, I have not even tried to guess what the
surprise is, nor have I done any internet snooping to see
what events are happening in the greater Sacramento Valley.
Yes, it has taken all of my strength to abstain. Photo credit.
On the list of things I’m good at, patience does not live near the top. Or the middle. Or even the bottom third. I suck at waiting. I’m often in a hurry. I’m not great at delegating because it’s usually faster to do things myself. I constantly weigh decisions in relation to how much time it will “cost” me. Consequently, “cultivating patience” has been on my annual goal list for awhile. Thanks to the Heinz commercials of my childhood, I know that good things come to those who wait, so I look for opportunities to practice patience.
Mr. T presented me with a terribly difficult opportunity recently. A couple weeks ago, he said he was planning an early birthday surprise, an event of some sort scheduled for this evening. The only things I know: That I am to dress up, fancy dinner will be involved and we need to leave the house no later than 2:30 p.m. This leads me to believe that the event could be in Tahoe, Reno, San Francisco or anywhere within in a 2-3 hour* radius. Beyond that I am in the dark.
The challenge? Balancing my patience practicing with my love/hate relationship with surprises. I LOVE surprises, but they kill me. Christmas, with all those beautiful boxes, is torturous! Somehow I typically finagle early present opening as was the case last year when I got T to let me open my fabulous camera a few days before my actual birthday. I just hate the waiting! (And for the record, I’m just as bad about giving presents, too. I want to see the joy now, dammit!)
This year, T answered my “I wanna knooooooooow!” queries with a proposition. I have to choose when to know the surprise… either the day before, when we leave the house or right as we get to the destination. I have to choose how much patience to practice and I’ve had a helluva time deciding. My instinct? Tell me noooooooooow. The ultimate patience-maker? Dawning realization as we arrive wherever it is we’re going. The kinda compromise? Somewhere in between.
The problem? I couldn’t decide! So I abdicated choosing responsibility to Chance. I put the choices in a hat and drew one at random. Can you guess which one the universe picked for me? Well actually it was the “No present at all” option that T made me include just to make sure I wasn’t pulling any funny business. Second up? Learning the surprise as we pull up to it. Ugh.
So I’m grumpily practicing patience and eagerly awaiting the evening. I really hope it make it all the way without caving, but T is not help matters by saying every so often “So, do you wanna know? I’ll tell you, if you want to…” What a brat.
As I wait, I’m curious: How well do you folks handle surprises? Am I the only one on the planet without patience?
* Of course, this could be a ruse and we could very well go on a scenic tour of Sacramento for all I know!
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