I am virtually impossible to surprise. I am the first born of three girls. I am highly regimented in my scheduling, and I will cop to being highly organized in most facets of my life – personal and professional.
And still, my sister – along with a bounty of other sneaks and fibbers – surprised me five times on Monday, the day of my 50th birthday.
- A breakfast with my family and two friends that have stood beside me and with me since 4th and 7th grade. Strong, good women who know secrets and keep straight faces.
- A group of flowers, arranged the way I adore them, delivered to my desk.
- A schedule cleared and staff hired to cover my immediately-demanded absence from work upon my arrival.
- A lunch planned and executed with more family and more friends – one of whom already had plans with me on my birthday and just kept running with the lies and deceptions as plans changed – at a favorite place with favorite cake.
- A home dancing with 50 blue balloons delivered and placed around my home by two children I love to my very core.
“One for every decade,” she said, while I thanked her at my door as she left my home on the first day of my new decade.
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