Botched-ulism Thy Name is Woody
The plan was simple. The plan was easy. The plan was simple and easy enough even a trained ape could do it.
Then I entered the picture.
Dad's heart attack caught me by surprise. I was expecting Sara's birthday present on Thursday at my office, and I was on the crystal coast. Fortunately, I have a stellar office mate who agreed to quitely accept the package for me and squirrel it away where it would be when I snuck in Friday night upon my return from the coast. My plan, I liked to call operation "its a wrap". Thursday I got an email from my stellar officemate whom I dearly love. The package had just arrived. the nice FEDEX guy just walked in and asked for me by name. Standard practice. Not standard practice. By pure, blind, amazing, biblical, dumb luck, Sara was standing right there. On the outside of the box in big letters was the name of the company where the package originated. Stellar office mate whom I dearly love, snatched the package away and put it in a safe place. Crisis averted. Go Team Knowledge!
My ape simple plan was to leave for home and then an hour into the trip call Sara and let her know I had just left, thus assuring myself an hour of slack time to be ahead of schedule arriving into town.
Then mom called and let me know I had forgotten my work shoes. 40 minutes later I have returned home, gotten the shoes and headed back. I now only have 20 minutes slack time. I will be stealty. I will be quick. I will wrap like there is no tomorrow!!!
As I pull into the parking lot I see Sara's truck. Damn. She's in her office, this will require pirate like stealth.
And With cat like tread,
upon the stairs I stepped.
No sound at all, my key fits in the door.
Not long at all the present will be wrapped
All this sneaking, and get dinner too.
It was even better than I had hoped! As I opened the door I hear music blasting down the hall. Clearly Sara would NEVER hear me sneak in. It took 51 seconds to ease the door closed to minimize the sound of its closing.
Its just me, and my trusty roll of pink wrapping paper, and some ribbon.
I tiptoe in the hall.
"Oh hi there! you made it!" Sara was standing there, as though waiting.
DAMN...........................................IT.
I run up the stairs fumble with my keys, drop my keys, pick up my keys and manage to get into my office and get the door locked before Sara caught up with me.
Now to my office, get scissors, tape, and the box sitting....in the great wide open...upon my desk.
Damn it two times.
Where the heck are my freakin' scissors????? Fine. I'll use my pocket knife.
The ribbon could have doubled as dental floss.
My pretty pink package looks like it was wrapped by a five year old...ape in training. But I am not going to let this grocery list of setbacks spoil my birthday surprise for Sara. I look down at my ugly ass pink package and read the shipping label through the wrapping paper. The company name on the side of the box almost seems to be blinking in neon lights.WHO MAKES SEE THROUGH PAPER WRAPPING PAPER ANYWAY?????!?!?!?!
And then it hit me. Somewhere in the room was a hidden camera and everyone I have ever known, including my mother was watching my 5 year old ape in training antics. I am that guy in the sitcom who thinks he's so clever but his wife is so many steps ahead of him she's circled the block back behind him again. My life is sitcom and I'm comic relief, and it doesn't matter one little bit about the package, or the shoes, or the pink wrapping paper, or the dental floss or the scissors or nothing. All I wanted to do was give my wife a happy surprise on her birthday tomorrow and unless faerie maids slip into the single wide in the middle of the night and transform our home into a sea side retreat for a queen and her jester, it ain't happening.
Well played.
Next year, though. Next year. Victory shall be mine!!!!!
