How (and Why) To Be A Sneaky Bastard or I’m Writing This at 11,887m

The Mrs loves surprises. In fact, the only thing she likes more than surprises is tricking me into giving them away.1 I, on the other hand, not really a big fan of be surprised. I prefer the sense of calm that comes planning things out months in advance, of making lists, checking them way more than twice,2 and then crossing things off of them.

This works out well when it comes to the “surprise vacation.” We’ve done this a number of times, going back a couple of decades to the first time I planned a trip but didn’t tell her where we were going. That was a visit to NYC (and attending the
Stoker Banquet). Since then we’ve have gone on a number of trips which I have planned: We spent a week in a lighthouse on the shore of Lake Superior. We spent a week in a cabin in Costa Rica. We stayed at a wonderful B&B in Traverse City.

This time we’re heading across the pond to London Town. Like that first trip, we’ll be attending a conference, but this time it’s something we will both enjoy -- the
Jack the Ripper Conference We’ll see the sights, do the tourist thing, and then return home to our dogs who we will be aching to see after a week away.

One things which all of these trips have in common is that The Mrs trusts me enough to do all of the planning. It kind of amazes me that she’s willing to say “OK, just tell me what to pack.”
3 She also knows me well enough to know that while I would definitely do the same, it would make me incredibly uncomfortable.

So she doesn’t do that.

She lets me have my secret plans, my lists, and the laundry. Then she grabs the suitcase and my hand and walks off with me.

If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.

1 So, yeah. That’s fun.

2 What am I, Santy Claus?

3 Actually, what she said was “I was thinking that since I don’t know where we are going and don’t know what to pack, it would probably be easiest if you just went ahead and did all of the laundry, and then put aside what I should bring.”

4 I’m not going to lie, I can’t even be mad at that. That is some next level, evil genius thinking right there.