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My Professional Background - Once upon a time, I wanted to be a motivational speaker. Actually, I was a professional motivational speaker for about 5 years.:
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Those who know me best know that I love surprises — both giving and receiving. Sadly, I am tragically flawed in the secret-keeping arena. If I remember to keep the surprise a secret (a BIG if), then I become too impatient to keep it. This is why Brian almost always receives his Christmas/birthday/anniversary gifts within 25 minutes of when I purchase them.

But, as it turns out, I’m also flawed in the area of receiving surprises. I either guess the surprise, ruin it, or irritate the person who planned it so much that they give up and tell me. I am then forced to pretend to be surprised on my 16th birthday so that I don’t disappoint all the guests who showed up to make my day so special. And then again on my 18th birthday.

“And the Oscar goes to . . . Katy for her role in ‘I Know What You Planned Last Summer.'”

[Is it just me, or do these jokes keep getting worse?]

Y’all, cut me some slack. I spent 11 hours in the car with two toddlers yesterday.

“Mommy, look at me!”

“Mommy, where are we going?”

“Mommy, why isn’t there a train on those tracks?”

“Mommy, where is my doggy?”

“Mommy, where is my other doggy?”

“Mommy, where are we going?”

“Mommy, can I have some crackers?”

“Mommy, why is that car hauler not hauling any cars?”

“Daddy, can I have some crackers?”

“Mommy, where are we going?”

“Mommy, can I have some more crackers?”

“Mommy, listen to me growl. Raaaaaaaaaaaaaawrrrrrrrrrrr!”

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I think they have conspired to short-circuit my brain. 

So, we returned yesterday from my in-law’s house in Indiana, and I have to say that it was a wonderful and weird 6 days. We celebrated 3 holidays, opened tons of gifts, visited with 3 completely separate groups of people, and managed to both give and receive some pretty fun surprises without ruining a single one.

Except . . . wait. I did forget to take our kids’ Easter surprises that we purchased months ago. Actually, I forgot that we even bought them anything for Easter until we returned home last night.

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This is JJ and Averi acting surprised that I forgot something. 

I would tell you all about our crazy weekend right now, but I ate a 900-calorie sandwich from Schlotzsky’s on the way home from Indiana, and every one of my brain cells is still trying to process all that delicious, saturated fat.

[Thanks for the visual.]

There is so much to share about our week, so please do check back (or subscribe on the right side of this page, so you don’t miss a thing).

I’ll give you a few “teasers” to pique your interest:

One of our guests this week brought along her designer, velvet shoes. To a farm. In Indiana.

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She probably went back to her home (in another country) with a few cow pies stuck to them.

I wonder if she made it through customs.

We also had two (surprise!) guests who threw rocks in the pond all day . . .

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. . . and sat with us by the bonfire all night.

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Finally, we had such a wonderful time with Brian’s family. So much so that we had the following conversation on the way home yesterday:

“Let’s move to Indiana when you get out of the Air Force.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Really. You could be a farmer.”

“Huh. You think so? Really? Huh. I hadn’t thought about. Really?”

“Yeah. You look hot in work boots.”

“So, wait. You think we should move to Indiana. And you think I should be a farmer. Because of the boots?”

“Right.”

“Well . . . baby, I can buy some boots now!”

Aaaaaaaaaaaaand we just lost my dad. 

I’m not kidding, y’all. I need to get this man some work boots for his birthday. It would be a whole lot cheaper than moving to Indiana. And then his family wouldn’t get so sick of us.

[Not unless they read your blog.]

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But just look at how happy he is skipping rocks across the pond in his borrowed work boots. And speaking of Brian, I’ll go ahead and tell you one more funny story from our week. We took the kids out to the pond to skip rocks, and — I kid you not — this is what Brian said to me:

“One of these days I’m going to buy some of those flat, decorative rocks they have at Target. Those would be perfect for skipping. [Pause.] I bet I’m the only man in Indiana who has ever said that.”

Seriously, Target, you’re missing an entire niche of potential customers, here. I’m talking about the city-dwelling engineer/pilot types who want a more aerodynamic skipping rock without all the trouble of having to dig through the yucky dirt and manure for them.

Give the people what they want!

I’m sorry, y’all. This post is as random as our vacation was this past week. I can’t wait to tell you all about it after I recover from my travel/sandwich coma.

How was your Easter weekend?

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Comments to "Full of Surprises"

  1. Karmen

    April 23, 2014

    Our Easter was spent in Indiana too. It was a nice visit with family and slowing down. I posted it about it here if you are interested: http://chairsfromthecurb.blogspot.com/2014/04/some-funny-things-happened-when-we-went.html

    • Katy in a Corner

      April 23, 2014

      Loved your post, Karmen! I have a photo of me shooting hoops as well. I was impressed with my form until I saw the photo of your daughter shooting barefoot in the back of a pickup. Totally showed me up on that one. 🙂

  2. Dona

    April 23, 2014

    Such a fun post!!! The boots!!!! I lost it on the boots! Still chuckling! I was raised on a ranch….you brought back many good memories! Thanks for that!

    (She was RAISED on a ranch? What is she, a cow?)

    (Ut oh. You’re rubbing off on me.)

    • Katy in a Corner

      April 23, 2014

      I wasn’t raised ON a ranch, but I was raised IN a ranch-style house for a while. Does that count? Oh, and I gotta figure out where to get Brian some work boots. I looked at Target and couldn’t find any. 😉

  3. Judi

    April 23, 2014

    <3

    • Katy in a Corner

      April 23, 2014

      I <3 you too, Judi. Wait, or is that a double scoop ice cream cone. Either way, I like it.

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