Oh man, we are going to have such a fun weekend! And the kids have no idea! Because I did not tell them! Ha ha! Why would I ever tell them about anything in advance? No thank you. I have lit that match before, and I have been burned.
You see, I have no idea if we are going to have a fun weekend. Just because I am planning on driving my family to my sister-in-law’s new mansion this afternoon and then taking them to see Marvel Universe Live (the stunt spectacular show!) tomorrow doesn’t mean that it will happen. Maybe we will spend the weekend in the hospital. Maybe we will spend the weekend on the side of the road, waiting for a tow truck. Maybe massive, radioactive solar flares will scorch the planet and we will spend the weekend fighting mutants for water. I don’t have a crystal ball.
Yesterday I made the mistake of telling Ruby that she could play outside after Edward and I got haircuts. I told her that the haircuts would take a short time. They did not. I told her we would go right home after. We did not. Instead my wife texted me that I could get a free flu shot at her office, so we went there instead. And oh the wailing and gnashing of teeth! You would have thought I had promised the moon and then destroyed it in front of her with my evil Dad death star. And she still got to play outside, but for 30 minutes instead of 90. The horror.
So I am not telling them anything. When we get in the car and they ask where we are going, I will say “out.” They can find out where we are going when we get there. Heck, half the time I find out where I am going when I get there. Because it’s the journey, not the destination, right? And though we may all die tomorrow, at least I’ll know that whatever it was that killed us, it wasn’t the anticipation.