Birthday planning

My husband had to share a secret with me about the plans underway for my upcoming birthday. He took the boys out yesterday afternoon (Thanksgiving Day here in Canada - but we ate our big meal on Sunday and enjoyed leftovers last night!) and asked them what ideas they had to surprise Mumma for her birthday.

"Well, not the same as last year that's for sure," said our oldest, G-man.

"Why not?" asked my husband, surprised. He knew how much I enjoyed their surprise massage and manicure gift at a little local spa. "You don't think Mumma liked going to the spa and having a few hours to herself?"

"Nah," said our soon-to-be eight-year-old boy emphatically. "Mumma had to be by herself. Without us. And Mumma likes family things! She'll want to spend her birthday with us."

Now, how can I possibly counter that?!!! Bless his little heart.

I have to say that this male misunderstanding of the complete luxury of spa time may, just may be inherited. When G-man was just over 12 months I longed for a tiny bit of time to myself. I hinted shamelessly, and I mean shamelessly to be given time for a manicure or massage or anything at a certain spa in our city as my Christmas gift. I would sit reading the spa pamphlet of services every time he walked in the room, talked about the women I know who went there and loved their husbands for the treat, and I said many times how rough and yucky my feet were, how sore my muscles. Oh, and we could claim a massage on my husband's extended health benefits so really it wouldn't be that expensive after all. But I never actually asked for exactly what I wanted, which was my mistake.

Imagine my state of mind when on Christmas morning when my husband happily presented me with a huge box containing my very own Dr. Scholls Foot Bath. Wow. I smiled. Wow. My husband was so excited, thrilled really, when he told me, "You know how you mentioned wanting a pedicure? Well, these were on sale and now you can have a good foot soak anytime you want here at home!"