Posted by: rocketbride | December 3, 2013

busted

I’ve barely begun to shop for Christmas, and I’ve already had my secrets exposed.

When I went into the city on Saturday to visit Scherezade, I was really going to snag a limited edition beer that was released in the afternoon. Mason had told me about it, but since he was stuck in his course all day he was trying to be mature about missing it. I thought it would be an excellently unexpected gift.

But it was a hard slog. Maggie cried a lot, especially when we walked into Scherezade’s apartment, and Blake was visibly bored. Not only did we have to fight our way down in the cold along torn-up transit-less streets, but when we got there we had to split up. The line was small but slow moving, so I sent Scherezade in with the kids and a $10 bill, so that I wouldn’t worry about them freezing to death while I chased Mason’s Christmas present. It took about 40 minutes from arrival to purchase, and I walked into the restaurant relieved that I had at least got to my goal. I was also a little worried at how my high maintenance kids had fared with my childfree friend.

When I found them, Blake was eating chicken fingers and playing games on Scherezade’s phone. Maggie was drinking water from her own cup. Scherezade was trying one of the special collaborations. They were fine. Better than fine.

It was when I got home that disaster caught up with me. Mason likes to post in a local beer geek forum, and I thought I would check out what others had thought of the event. Was it just me who had trouble with the whole thing? Reading down, I discovered that Mason had seen a picture of me in line that was taken by the brewery and tweeted, so he was publicly resolving to fake surprise in a month.

that's me with the recognizable stroller. sigh.

that’s me with the recognizable stroller. sigh.


Goddamn, social media. Goddamn. Does anyone else get busted while doing their Christmas shopping?

I stewed for a day, wondering if I could keep up the charade. I thought about delightfully evil ways to mess with Mason, like telling him that I’d gone downtown to buy the special beer to give to his dad and brother in law, and watch him struggle to keep it together. Ultimately, I just told him that I knew. So we had our Christmas reveal a little early this year. Oh well.

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