Two days before surgery Dave continued badgering me about what the surprise was. "No, I'm not getting my stomach flattened. No, we are not getting another animal."
"Will I like it?" he asked doubtfully.
"Probably not. But I don't care."
"Is it a pedicure?" On our anniversary one year, I had dragged him along with me to get pedicures. As there was free beer involved, he somewhat enjoyed it.
"Are you doing something to your face?"
"OKAY. YES, "I relented.
He seemed relieved. I pulled my neck skin up towards my ears. "I'm getting a neck lift," I said minimizing this by not giving any details.
He returned to watching garbage TV while looking at guns on his laptop.
I could now get a good night's sleep without feeling panicky over invented scenarios involving his reaction to my endeavors.
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