A couple of years ago, I saw Odyssey Dance Theater's Halloween production, THRILLER. It was kinda freaky, kinda funny, kinda funky. I liked it. I vowed to come back again-with the family. As luck would have it the kids were out of school yesterday, Jordan was in town, Brittney had fall break and so Thriller tickets got booked. I was feeling pretty good about myself. I love it when we have a plan. And I just knew the rest of family would be so grateful. This was an indulgence. These tickets were not cheap. This was going to be fun.
Me: "Hey hon, I got Thriller tickets for Thursday night!"
Jordan: "Is that the dance thing?"
Me (sensing hesitation): "ya..but it's a Halloween dance thing. It's really cool."
Jordan: "How many tickets did you get? Enough for the boys?"
Me (feeling a little frustration creep in): "I got enough for the whole family to go. I may get a couple more 'cause Britt's friends wanted to come."
Jordan: "Hey...I've got a great idea! Just give them MY ticket."
Me (really, really thinking about it. I mean, how much fun would he be if he didn't want to be there?): "Actually, I thought it would be fun to do something with the whole family."
So...I stew. I think of all of the times that I go with him to events I'm not thrilled about and the fact that if HE made a plan, I'd be all over it-regardless.
Thursday afternoon I get this phone call from the foot dragging, Thrillerless husband:
Jordan: "Hey hon, I just called to tell you that I'm excited about tonight. (I drop the phone momentarily then pick it up to hear him finish...)Not about the dance thing necessarily but for the chance to be with you. The chance to be with the family."
That was the plan.
Nothing freaky about it. I just got the real Thriller.
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