If Meg knew that I kept a secret blog, she would be so mad that it is already January 10 and I am just getting around to bragging about the Christmas present she gave me.
She was a little bitchy on the phone yesterday.
Maybe she knows.
Maybe she reads.
Maybe she's mad!
Let's get to it.
This is what I opened on Christmas morning:
A toy airplane. A toy airplane that now sits on my desk at work.
Meg had it wrapped up weeks in advance. As she tends to do, she tried to give it to me early. The weekend before Christmas. On Christmas Eve. At 6:15 am on Christmas morning, she texted me from her bed. "Do you want your present now?" She's very persistent. Especially when she's excited about the gift that she's giving.
I opened her present to me first, as is tradition.
"What do you think that it means?" Meg asked me as I peered into the box. There sat a toy airplane sitting on a toy runway. Meg has the biggest blue eyes and I could feel her looking at me. I could feel her smiling. I could feel her leaning a little closer to me.
"That...we're..." I hesitated. "...going somewhere?"
"We're going to Brazil," Meg said. "I'm buying your plane ticket."
Brazil is where the World Cup will be held in 2014.
I had basically written off being able to make the trip unless I took a new job or won the lottery or sold a kidney or married a rich man.
Meg must really want me to go.
Or she really wants me to meticulously plan every detail of our trip so that she doesn't have to.
Either way: BRAZIL. Now 75% more likely.