|Finishing touches to the cake|
While the rest of the nation appeared to be winding themselves up for a frenzy of red white and blue bakery items, something else was going on Edinburgh.
A small crowd was gathering in a city hotel to celebrate my Super Sister’s fortieth birthday. (I know, I know I barely look a day over 30 myself and certainly not old enough to have a baby sister turning 40.)
|The penny drops|
She was the last person to know what we had been hiding from her for months. She was not, in fact, having a low-key dinner with her wife, mother and sister, but there were 100-odd (some more than others) friends and family getting together for her.
Once she got over the shock and swore at a few people – particularly her missus – she seemed to have a jolly old time.
Everyone else certainly did, Stripping The Willow and Dashing White Sergent style until the wee small hours.
|So who else is there?|
But as the hangovers start to fade, I wonder, is a surprise party your ideal evening or a nightmare date?
Secrets are funny things. The older I get the more important and the more troublesome the truth is. Keeping our plans from my sister, however celebratory they were, was an uncomfortable experience. Frantically trying to avoid and control conversations with her wasn’t much fun.
And I wasn’t alone, dozens of us had been absent, shifty or downright weird with her. The poor girl must have thought we’d all gone off her.
On the other hand, the delight on her face as she registered table after table of chums was evident. Like the good bits of a wedding without the anxiety, commitment and daft frocks.
But then with a wedding or other monumental knees up you get the entertainment of anticipation..who’s coming? What are we going to wear, eat and gossip about?
Do you miss half the hoorah by only coming in at curtain up?
Then again organising a do can be a pain in the proverbial. How many and when? Will it go with a bang?
|A big blow|
So what do you think, you’d secretly love a surprise bash or hate it with a passion?