The husband has something up his sleeve. Something other than bits of plaster, a 2" long pencil and a spirit level.
On Wednesday evening, he implied that I would need to get back from Binland rather sharpish on Friday as he had something planned to celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary. Now I'm not too good on the whole surprise front. Having mild OCD, I panic about not having the right clothes, appropriate shoes, currency....the list is endless. And then last night he came out with this comment.
'I think it's only fair that I tell you a bit of what we're doing'.
So the total sum of warning which he gave me was that we were going away for several nights. He'd preceded this by telling me that I wasn't to worry about the dogs, which has the immediate effect of making me worry about the dogs, as it means that one/some of the children are involved. But I let that go. A few days away with the husband is a wonderful surprise, but his big reveal didn't go as far as actually telling me where we are going.
I asked him whether we were going abroad, which earned me a knowing shrug, but as my passport is still in its hiding place, I think I can safely assume that there will be no need for euros. 'Can you tell me what I should pack?' I asked. 'Just pack for every eventuality', he said rather unhelpfully.
OK. So this means packing....jeans, walking boots, bikini, thermals, shorts, flip flops, dresses, trousers, raincoat, jumpers, waterproofs, boots, heels, hairdryer, socks, sun tan cream, after sun, fake tan (in case the sun doesn't follow us to where we were going). It also means that I'll have to take my entire make up collection, all my jewelry (to go with all the clothes removed from my wardrobe) and various gew-gaws to make me look lovely for my husband.
It's just as well we are not going abroad as I would imagine that yet again, I would be the lady at the drop off desk rifling through her suitcase trying to find some bits which added up to 4kg, which could then be stuffed hurriedly into a separate carrier bag which would also be going on the same plane as my suitcase. No, I don't understand it either.
Anyway, back to the weekend. I have a set of suitcases similar to a set of Russian Babushka dolls, so I'll start with the middle one and increase or decrease as necessary.
And before any ne'er-do-well reading this decides that this weekend might be the perfect opportunity to come and rifle through my knicker drawer looking for valuables, I must warn you that there will be several large people here with two rabid dogs.