Hubby didn’t forget

It started with a text from hubby:

mom is going to pick you and Kat up and 2:00 and drop you off at my work. She’s going to watch Kat for us, I’m taking you shopping for your birthday present.

I was curious. I do love presents, and although I had been adamant that I did not really want to celebrate my birthday, Hubby’s text was intriguing. I had been considering my new iphone– I’d gotten the 5c, not the 6, I had wanted the pink/coral/peachy colored phone since it had come out– my birthday gift.

So, at 2:45, I was dropped off at his work, and we were walking to his jeep.

“And where are we going?”

He shakes his head. “I’m not telling. It’s a surprise. It’s a drive out though, so I hope you have your book, or maybe you will be able to close your eyes.”

“Huh. Can I have a hint??? Please, please, please???” I ask, dancing down the sidewalk. I feel goofy, silly, like a little kid. I’m enjoying the moment.

“Nope. No hints. I planned this good, and no hints allowed. It’s a rule.” He grins.

We reach his jeep, and we head out. The drive does end up being a bit of a long one. I read, check email, and doze intermittently. Hubby makes cryptic phone calls, where he sounds like a spy, or something and so I laugh and tease him about it.

Eventually, we pull up to a car dealership.

“Happy birthday,” Hubby says.

I look at him, blankley. I am really confused.

“A car. A car that you choose. For YOU. I did some research. I have some set aside, ready for you to test drive. I tried to find cars that should drive similar to your sunfire that you loved so much.”

I can’t speak. I’m speechless. Finally, I try to get words out, and they gush out in a mess. “What!?! How…why…thank you….mine? Just mine!?! Why!?!?”

He laughs, he is happy. “Come on, babe. Let’s go find a car.”

And so we do. It doesn’t take long. I don’t like fancy cars. I like small, and simple. I like cars that feel like they are moving. We test drive the Chevy spark, and I fall in love. All that’s left is to choose which spark, as there are several options.

I end up with a more “fancy” option in some ways. It has leather seats, with seat heaters— a must if you have fibro, in my opinion. And it has this awesome little screen with Bluetooth that connects to my phone and can play pandora, itunes, make calls, use Siri to read and send text messages, and there is a GPS app to download, and that becomes the GPS. It’s perfectly awesome. The screen is a touch screen, and there are buttons on the steering wheel as well, that work the Siri function and phone call functions. So you never even have to touch your phone to do anything. Awesome. The car is tiny. And square but slightly rounded. Cute. It’s sliver, with a darker gray interior.

It doesn’t take Hubby long to do the paperwork, he already had everything set and ready with the bank, the car insurance. All that was left was for me to find a car. I can’t believe he did this. I mean, really, who does this?

I ask Hubby, “Did you lose your mind?”

“No,” he laughs, “Kat is older, you don’t really need a ‘mom-mobile’, you like small cars, you’ve had two vehicles you haven’t gotten to choose, and I thought a big birthday present might be a nice distraction. It won’t make things better, but it might add some fun to this week, at least, for you.”

I really, really, love this man. I ask it often, but how in the world did I get so blessed to have him as my husband?

Driving home, I crank up my music, and go down the highway. I feel like me for a few minutes, even though I’m not sure who that is exactly. I sing along to Meredith Brooks’ “Bitch” and let my worries go for a while.