Everyone in my family has been on the receiving end of a surprise birthday party. My sister’s 5th birthday is the first of our endeavors that I remember. She had spent the day at Grandma June’s and my mom and I went to work. Now, granted I was six at the time, so I don’t remember the work as much as the surprise.
In the spirit of Halloween, my mom invited the entire kindergarten class (in our small rural school there was just one class) to arrive in costume. We draped black tarp over the garage walls attempting to hide the workbench and cases of tools. Orange lights cast an eerie glow on the concrete. I vividly remember the tank of water ready for apple bobbers.
The garage filled quickly with my sister’s classmates and their parents. When the last one arrived, we closed the doors and waited for my dad and sister to come home. I intercepted Stacey in the drive telling her we had new kittens holed up in the garage. Did she want to see?
What we laugh about now was that the yells of “SURPRISE” scared her so badly she cried for a good part of the night. That and the one overzealous boy who fell into the tarp, pulling down our carefully hung false walls and effectively ending the party.
Always an adventure, surprise parties are.
My brother’s 16th birthday was a surprise for everyone involved. He had spent the day in the fields harvesting corn and stormed in the house that evening, upset that Dad had kept him later than planned, which was the plan. Brian thought he had a date with his girlfriend (now wife). Funny how even in high school farming got in the way of dating.
Anyway, he went straight to the bathroom to shower ignoring the stifled giggles of his friends hiding in the front room. What my mom hadn’t intended was my brother’s exit from the bathroom in nothing but a towel.
Ooppss. . .
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