What to Do About Father's Day??

Given the way Hubby's birthday went, I am not stressing over Father's Day. His birthday was a huge bust, but a good laugh weeks later.

It is impossible to surprise him. He knows what he likes. He's specific. He likes to pick out his gifts himself. And his sentimentality is limited. He doesn't treasure crafty or cluttery things. That must come from moving so many times. We go out to eat and he never hems and haws over a menu. He knows what he wants to eat by the time the waiter takes the drink order. He's not a big fan of surprises, anyway. On the other hand, he loves to surprise me. And I eat up the attention. Well, because I'm me. I always dream of surprising him, but he just says he's not into "that surprise stuff." Poo! So imagine my absolute delight when a postcard came from Top of Waikiki a few weeks before his birthday and he said, "Hmmm, Top of Waikiki, I've heard that's supposed to be a romantic restaurant. We'll have to get a sitter and try it some time. " A light bulb went off in my head. I finally could defy Farmer history and surprise him for his birthday.

First I called Top of Waikiki and made a reservation on Hubby's birthday weekend, not his actual birthDAY. Then I arranged a sitter a couple of weeks in advance. She and her whole family knew it was a surprise, and not to mention the date to Hubby. Next, I dragged Son2 dress shopping with me, and I tried on 24 dresses. (I took 8 garments into the fitting room 3 different times, that's how I know.) I picked a dress he would like (read: modest). Then my neighbor stopped by with a surprise that she had no idea would go perfectly with my dress. We walk together and we talk about our "problem areas." Except she has 5 kids and is a size 4. She came over all giggly with a wadded up bag. Out popped a pair of underwear with a six inch tummy sucker girdle band and choke hold material. She bought one for me and one for her. Oooh perfect. I told her they would look so smashing under my dress for Hubby's birthday. Well now there was someone else in on the surprise.

Hubby's actual birthDAY was spent at a chain restaurant, as a family of four. At first, the host thought to sit us in a booth in the bar area. He smiled and proudly held out his hands. I scowled. We were the only folks with children.
"No, we can't sit here."
"You can't sit here?!?"
"No, it's not worth the dirty looks from people without kids. We need to sit in the main area."

Reluctantly, he sat us in an already busy section with families. Woo hoo!!! Hubby plucked the children's menu from the table. "Son1 is having chocolate milk, because it's MY BIRTHDAY." Yeah, I never let him have chocolate milk because I'm too fearful of starting that habit. But when Daddy's alone, it's chocolate milk and chocolate shakes all around. I'm never happy about that.

Son1 clutches chocolate milk for dear life knowing Mommy is not a fan.

Dinner was loud, which we expected. Son2 (all of 14 months old) ate an entire children's menu plate, ate off our plates, plus the snacks I brought for the wait. Whew! Late in the meal Son1 stood up and announced to our table, and those around, "I GOTTA GO POOP!" Usually I jump up at those moments, but those two were sitting together, and closest to the potty. So off they went. And when they came back Hubby was shaking his head. Remember the host who wanted to seat us in the bar area? Apparently he was in the bathroom (Hubby checked out his shoes) doing his business while Son1 was finishing his. There were enough audible noises from the next stall that Son1 shouted at the top of his lungs, over and over, "HEY DADDY! HE'S GOING BIG POO POOS!!! HEY DADDY! HE'S GOING BIG POO POOS!!! OOHH IT'S STINKY!!!" So we paid our bill shortly after their return to the table, and high tailed it out of there.

Now I told you Hubby's selective. We drove to a bakery for him to pick out his own cake. It was a strawberry shortcake, and I picked out the Spiderman candle, because we are all about superheroes here.

The night wasn't quite the ideal birthday celebration. We went to bed late after watching a movie. I giggled to myself knowing I was going to Top of Waikiki the next night. Well, so I thought.

The next morning we were awakened by our bright eyed children at 530am. There was no way either one of them was going back to sleep. SIGH. Hubby left for his tennis match 45 minutes later. He was back, we were off to breakfast, a few yard sales, and then a birthday party. In every one of our conversations Hubby kept singing to us "It's My Birthday Weekend" as obnoxiously as I have for the last ten years of marriage. Annoying. Eww. I ignored him.

We all went to the birthday party. The party was tons of fun, but it was so hot and not air conditioned. It was held inside a huge warehouse with several bouncy houses. Everyone was sweating. It was so sticky. Hot and Sticky. By the time we got out of there, we were totally wiped from being so hot and sticky.

Down the 30 foot slide together

Future gladiator

Hubby offered to pick up Thai food on the way home. "NO!!!!! I mean...nooo. I'm just not in the mood for Thai food..." And then he started singing his birthday weekend song. SIGH. NO.

He had to go to Costco to pick up my Mother's Day Gift, he said, so maybe he and Son1 should just pick up dinner for us....didn't I feel like something from the food court? "NO!!!!! I mean...nooo...." You know what came next, that birthday weekend song! Eww. So I laid it on thick. I was tired. We went to bed late and got up early today. I was hot, sticky, and wanted a shower. How about if we just went to bed early? The next day was Mother's Day, and it wasn't going to be much of a Mother's Day for our family with church, brunch, and Bible study. Why couldn't we just have a nice romantic dinner at home, with sleeping children, and go to bed early??!?!? And besides, his birthday had passed. When was Mother's Day going to start???

He caved. Ok. All he asked was that I preheated the oven when he called from Costco, and he would make me a romantic dinner at home. Perfect. He left, and I scrambled to put Son2 to bed, and ready myself. He called twice to make sure I preheated the oven. Of course, I never turned it on. So he walked in, I flew down the stairs, but he reached the oven first. He shot me this look, and before he could say anything, I blurted out that I got a sitter and it is surprise for his birthday, and besides, he didn't really think that our family dinner was his birthday dinner, did he? SIGH. "Well, I wish you would have told me," he started to say slowly. "I bought all of this food for Romantic Dinner, and you had me going with being so tired, and I am so tired too...".
Well, she was coming at 7:30, I replied, but I didn't tell him where we were going.

About 6:30, I started to get nervous. Hubby was putting together an electric car set with Son1, and wasn't going to be done any time soon. I didn't have the constricting underwear on yet, or the dress. "You're going to need to hurry, because it's going to be a drive, and you need to get ready." There was a bit of pushiness in my voice. He looked at me blankly. "Aren't we just going to Assaggio's?" That's our favorite Southern Italian restaurant. See, I told you he always knows what he wants. Well, no. Didn't he say we should go to Top of Waikiki sometime? I had made an 8:30 reservation. As the words came out of my mouth, I could see absolute pain across his face. I knew what he was thinking. It's a drive there, a drive back, and dinner was going to be anything but short. "You had me convinced about being so tired, all I can think about is how tired we are," he said gently. I knew he wouldn't cancel dinner, and he would have been a good sport, and I really wanted to go. Now it was my turn to cave. I suggested we just go somewhere nearby. We could try Assaggio's, but I didn't think we could get in without a reservation. So that's just what we did. And the line was out the door at Assaggio's. We ended up at Ruby Tuesday's, in my regular underwear and capri pants. No dress. No Top of Waikiki. I don't really care for that restaurant, but Hubby does. It was uneventful. And the other gifts I got him? Thoughtful, but not what he really wanted. I ended up returning them.

This brings me to Father's Day. Part of me wants the whole fanfare, the whole tah-dah, the whole shock and awe over gifts. The whole thank-you-so-much-for-thinking-of-me!! But you know, that's just not him. He is totally unimpressed. You know what works well? I usually ask him what he wants, and then Son1 and I go shopping for his gifts together, and he acts so grateful and surprised for what he already knows he is getting. That's him. But maybe I can still sneak something sentimental in there....