“Honey, get up. Your pants are getting dirty.” Isn’t that what every man wants to hear when he is on one knee and proposing to his girlfriend? Well, that’s the response my husband received when he asked me to marry him 12 years ago. At that moment, all I could think about was how he had on a new pair of khakis and how dirty the ground was and how it was going to be hard to get the dirt out of the knee. I did eventually get to the “yes” part, but I think he had to ask me again before my brain started functioning properly. What can I say? I don’t respond to surprises well. My husband does. He adores surprises. For many years, he hinted ever so subtly that he wanted a surprise birthday party. I just didn’t pick up on those hints. For our second anniversary, I came home from work and there was a masseuse in my living room! The table was set up, and there were candles, flowers, music and champagne. What more could a girl ask for? In the case of this girl, it was not a massage. I couldn’t do it. I felt all panicky at the idea so I let my husband get the hour-long massage. Another year for Valentine’s Day, my husband surprised me with a barbershop quartet! They came to the house and crooned a few songs in their red and white striped vests and white top hats. And at the end, they gave me some much needed chocolate. I enjoyed it, but there was a part of me that wanted to go hide in a closet. When my husband learned I had never gone to a slumber party as a child, he planned a surprise slumber party for my 30th birthday. The details involved having my little sister surprise me by coming in from out-of-town and while we were out birthday shopping the next day, my friends would “kidnap” me in the parking lot for an evening of chick flicks, fingernail painting and truth or dare. Fortunately, I discovered the plot in time before the kidnapping happened because, well, there was no way I was going through with it! So this past weekend, I fully expected our anniversary to be low key because I enjoy my celebrations to be as low key as possible. But as I was baking Saturday afternoon, my husband asked me, “Tell me how you feel about surprises again.” I don’t, honey. They make me nervous. Why??? And I knew he had something cooking. That night we were supposed to go to church for a Memorial Day service, and I thought, “Oh no, he’s going to have someone announce that it’s our anniversary, or he’s going to have someone sing to us.” I thought about it for a minute and realized that while it wasn’t my cup of tea, it meant a lot to my husband so I could definitely appreciate the sweet gesture. “As long as I don’t have to sing or say anything, I’m good!” My husband responded by telling me that it was nothing major and that I definitely wouldn’t have to sing. Then he blurted, “Ummm…well, I sort of planned for us to renew our vows tonight. That’s why the church is coming. There really isn’t a Memorial Day service. Oh, and Lexi knows. She’s going to be the flower girl. But don’t worry. It’s going to be low key. I just wanted to make up for how hard the first ten years were and to say it all over again with God at the center of our marriage.” And for many of you who love surprises and romantic gestures, you really will not understand my response, but I’m pretty sure I screamed. Loudly. I know I hyperventilated for a solid hour. I couldn’t wrap my brain around the idea. And like a wild animal in a cage, I panicked and literally walked around my apartment and banged into a few walls because I was just sure he was kidding. Once I was calm, I had to know every detail of who, what, where, when and how. At least I had a few hours to process it all. I think my husband was afraid I was going to call it off, but then I thought about how much love and care went into the planning and knew it would be incredibly selfish to stay home and hide. I thought about the purpose for my husband wanting to renew our vows, and was angry with myself for having ruined a special moment for him. I hadn’t even hugged him or thanked him! I was still thinking about me, me and me. (But since it was apparently my wedding day, I had a right to a Bridezilla moment, right?") When we walked into the church, I was met by one of our friends with a veil and bouquet. I saw the wedding cake she had made for us, the flower basket made for Lexi and the friends gathered to witness this moment with us, and I felt blessed. I also felt guilty. As one of our friends said, “Why did you have to be a party pooper?” And it was so true. They had all been waiting for this “big reveal” moment, and I had ruined it with my neurotic aversion to surprises. But to be fair, I don’t think they would have wanted to see my immediate response to surprises. I’m pretty sure had it occurred as planned, I would have had to excuse myself to go hyperventilate in the women’s restroom for a while. And while memorable, that’s not how I would have wanted to remember that evening. I love my husband, and I love how considerate he is to plan these moments for me. He says he’s never going to surprise me ever again though. But he said that the last time, too, and the time before…