Two sweet

In addition to a spiffy afternoon picnic, the Mister executed two consecutive surprise birthday dinner parties, the first at a vegan and macrobiotic sushi joint, and the second at a snazzy Italian hotspot. It was too sweet because the husband will unabashedly proclaim that he is not a planner, that honing in on the details frazzle him, and that coordinating events makes him want to die. And yet, both groups of sweet friends who kindly attended the surprise dinners did not hesitate to tell me about his addiction to his email for the past two weeks, in an attempt to coordinate schedules in order to include everyone dear to my heart in the group outings. It was also thoroughly humbling because last week, I noticed the husband was acting abnormally secretive and burdened. He refused to share with me what was on his mind when I inquired, so I, as an emotional female creature, felt hurt that he did not want to share his troubles with me. This evolved into a spat, and he finally ended up admitting with a sigh, "I couldn't tell you what was going on because I was trying to plan your birthday." Jeepers, did I feel horrible for instigating the surprise fight that ruined his efforts with the first surprise - just another illustration of how the Lord is ever too kind to me despite my manifold shortcomings.