A while back, my buddy Nathan and I began hatching a plan to treat our wives to a surprise ladies night spa/shopping spree. The whole thing went down like this:
On Saturday, I told Nathan’s wife, Kendra, that I was planning on doing something special (a surprise) for Kristie and that I was going to need her help. I asked her to find an excuse to get Kristie up to Orem where she would need to deliver an envelope at a specific time. She agreed and set it all up. What Kendra didn’t know was that Nathan was in on it too, and the envelope she was delivering to Kristie contained a note from each of us to our wives, including a two-hour day spa massage/jacuzzi package and some cash to offset the alarming downward trend in consumer spending that’s fueling the meltdown of our precarious situated global economy.
So when Kendra handed over the envelope they we’re both totally taken by surprise by its contents. They had just enough time to get dinner before basking in two hours of luxury at the spa, which, I imagine, had rooms full of Swedish masseuse extraordinaires with names like Sven and Olaf, waiting on you hand and foot. If you’d like, you can read Kendra’s account here, which includes actual details (not just speculation) and a few pictures.
I’m learning fast that these types of overly-romantic gestures pay serious dividends. Woot woot.