Surprise, Mom!

I love surprises, and more importantly I love being the surpriser. I have surprised someone in my family now three times and the excitement and anticipation of the screaming and shouting and "Oh my Gods!" that ensue keep getting better and better:

1. My first surprise was flying to Hawaii for Thanksgiving to meet my family. I was in my second year at the University of Virginia and my parents were living overseas in Tokyo. Dad and I were in cahoots for weeks trying to nail down the dates that would work. I don't know how I convinced my swim coach to give me enough time off to fly to Hawaii for what is normally a four-day weekend, but I did and it was one of the most memorable moments in my life. When I finally knocked on the door to the hotel room, about four hours later than I was supposed to arrive and after many frustrated and confusing voicemails between me and my dad, I found my mom and brother half asleep. My mom answered the door blind, in pajamas and fumbling to put her glasses on. Her eyes appeared glued shut, that or she was going to melt if she let any sunlight into her eyes. She thought I was the housekeeper delivering a much-needed cot as she ushered me into the room and told me where it needed to go. Finally I blurted, "MAAAAAAH-AAAAHM!" Surprise numero uno.

2. About five years later, I surprised my dad in New York for his 50th birthday. I was living the life of Riley in Aspen for a year and decided with my brother, who was at school in Richmond, that it was worth it to get home for the momentous bash. My parents organized a dinner at La Locanda in the city with another couple and I organized the logistics with Ted and Mom. I invited Carebear and BermudaBabe to come along, thinking shouts and smiles in numbers, and we met Ted minutes before going into the restaurant. My dad and his friends sat for about fifteen to twenty minutes confused as to why they were at this enormous circular table when they were only four people. The manager was in on it too and in his sweet Italian accent, he kept assuring the party that they needed the space for all the food and wine -- a likely story. It wasn't long before Dad knew what the space was for as he howled at my entrance. And then, ten strategic minutes later, the howling recommenced at Ted's entrance. Surprise numero dos.

3. As you know, I work the late shift, but for some reason, when I volunteered to work Thanksgiving and the day after, I scored an early shift on Thursday followed by a late shift on Friday. Packaged together I decided I would have enough time to enjoy a Thanksgiving dinner and morning-after breakfast before heading back to work at three o'clock Friday afternoon. I mentioned my scheme to Uncle Butzy, thinking I would surprise both Mom and Dad, and he thought it was outrageous. "M-, you're going to miss the entire meal. What if we end up leaving your house? You have to tell them you're coming," he insisted with a frown of disapproval. I swore him to secrecy, nonetheless, until he heard otherwise from me. After a week of mulling over the idea, and heeding additional advice from a friend, I decided to tell one parent and that was Dad. I raced out of work at 4:15 to catch the 5:07 train to New Canaan, fearing I'd be stuck with all the drunk baffoons who watched the Thanksgiving Day parade. It was a surprisingly painless trip. My cab driver once I made it to the suburbs handled the car and the road like a student driver on his first test. I think we averaged twelve miles per hour and I was crawling the doors in the back seat. You don't appreciate New York City cab drivers until you're stuck without them. When I finally walked in the front door, left slightly ajar thanks to Dad, I was flailing on what to do. Knock? Ring the bell? Scream? Call the home phone? I didn't want my surprise production to be anti-climactic. So I picked up my phone and dialed. Dad answered, slightly confused, before he handed the phone to Mom. I started making my way in the house, figuring that my loud voice would carry and I'd be discovered early on. The last line I heard before I turned the corner of our dining room was, "M-, Dad must have put you on speaker phone. You sound awfully loud!" After staring at my mom face-to-face for several seconds, much like the time I surprised her in Hawaii, I let out my life's second incredulous "MAAAAAAH-AAAAHM!"

With three surprises under my belt, I hope the novelty will never wear off and that there will be many other opportunities for me to surprise friends and family. I also hope my frequent scheming doesn't turn me into the girl who cried "MAAAAAH-AAAAHM!"