My wife and I have executed the SINGLE GREATEST SURPRISE in the history of our family. For the last two months, we’ve been planning an epic family vacation. We were going to take the kids to Walt Disney World.
Easter Sunday was the day and the secret was unspoiled. We enlisted the 15-year old, AKA C-Dog, in the weeks leading up to the trip. Great job all the way around. The trip to Walt Disney World (AKA Whiskey-Delta-Whiskey, Walter D. White’s house, or some other codeword designed for maximum OpSec against the elementary school crowd) remained a surprise until we woke the Noodle and the Goon (ages 7 and 5, respectively) Easter morning and told them to get dressed because they were going to see Mickey Mouse.
My wife (the Queen) and I had sketched out a broad plan for the actual travel. Flying on Southwest, our seats were not assigned. We figured that we would each pair up with one of the little guys and allow the C-Dog to sit with either of us. (Or 15 rows away, if his brothers had really annoyed him on the drive to the airport.) As it turned out once we got on the plane, my traveling companion was the Goon. Oh boy.