Mrs. G. and I recently celebrated our silver anniversary. I thought of two perfect presents, and on that rare occasion when a husband (this husband, anyway) thinks of a perfect present, he better get 'em. The first was the sign over our front door, which made her laugh to falling over.
The second one would require getting. The best place to get it was in Pennsylvania. I knew we would be there for my college reunion. So I told my wife that on our last day at Swarthmore, I would rise early, take one of the kids, and come back for breakfast with Something. She didn't know what it was, but she knew it could fit in the back of the minivan.
My sister recently acquired a pair of Nubian miniature goats. They are very cute. My sister lives on a farmlette and has lots of animals, so the goats were an appropriate addition for them. We, on the other hand, live in a very bourgeois house on a very bourgeois street, and can't manage any animal that needs more maintenance than a cat. So goats would be wildly inappropriate as an anniversary present.
Therefore, I kept dropping hints that I was getting a miniature goat. The kids were in on it, and played along. At the reunion, all of our friends were brought in on it as well, and began making up horror stories of goats eating houses, cars, children, etc. I pointed out to the Mrs. that she is short, so would soon get the hang of milking a miniature goat.
Last Sunday, Boybot and I got up at 5:30, drove out to the lovely spring countryside, and brought back The Gift. We joined the family at breakfast. Our friends joined in the crescendo of goat humor. She still had no idea (though she was pretty sure it wasn't a goat).
Finally, we got to the van with our suitcases. I asked her is she were ready for "the reveal," as we have learned to say from the house makeover shows. Tah da!
A lovely three-foot-tall copper beech, our favorite tree.
It is now planted in our front yard.
She was delighted.