And no, the answer is not me naked.
This past weekend I was beckoned to Des Moines by my bestie Scooby to supply his husband with a good old fashioned make your heart stop birthday surprise. Brainstorming on how I would be presented as a grand gift we landed on the idea of shoving me into the trunk for an ambush on Mr. Scooby.
Naturally, we pulled over in a church parking lot to get the deed done.
A quick prayer was said in the hopes that no one would suffocate to death, all other vehicles on the road would avoid rear ending us and I prayed Scooby wouldn’t forget about me as soon as he went into the house to fetch his hubs.
With the surprise package in compact place, we were off.
As the car reached its destination, I heard voices approaching the vehicle to take a gander at what gift awaited while I almost pissed my pants from trying to keep my not so quiet laugh subdued. Mr. Scooby said, “is there a puppy in there?”
While the surprise was a success, I had a grand entrance fail.
Once able to hoist my fat ass out of the trunk (a true junk in the trunk story here folks) it was birthday hugs for everyone.
The only thing left to do was get the party started.
And party we did.
Now how in the hell am I going to top this next year?