Style

Lyla's putting stickers on the fireplace, which felt safer in real life than it sounds in a sentence or looks in that photo. Julie's talking to my parents, though it's tempting to suggest she's smiling at nothing and potentially insane.

Speaking of mental illness, I have 14.5 weeks of sick time banked up, so I took a mental health day yesterday so I could redecorate our bedroom as a surprise for Julie's birthday. We're talking paint, art, sheets and duvet, rug, candles, and lamps. Look at your man, now look at me, now look at your man, now look...at...me.

So I woke up and acted like I was heading to school, then went to Starbucks instead. At the time when Julie and Lyla usually leave (check out Lyla's pic in the previous post), I drove home and...oh shit, saw them in the driveway. But they didn't see me.

Ten minutes of mindless drive-wandering later, I returned to the now-empty driveway, entered the house past the more-confused-than-usual dogs, and worked for the next three hours to gut our bedroom, tape, and apply the first coat of paint. Then Julie texted me.

"Come have lunch with me."

As she confirmed later, she truly thought she was texting me as a joke between 4th and 5th period. But I wasn't sure, so I decided to call her bluff.

"Where should I meet you?"

"Seriously?!!!!! City Center Starbucks."

I called her and came clean about my scheme. What's odd is that this is my 10th year teaching, and Julie has never emailed, texted, or called to jokingly suggest that I come meet her for lunch.

So we had lunch. Then I came home and finished painting.

Fast forward four hours. My mom came to pick up Lyla. Julie came home and we threw some clothes into a suitcase and headed downtown to the Hotel Ivy. Dinner. Room service. Sleeping in. More room service. Breakfast (in a snowstorm!). Massages. Lunch. Home. The perfect 24-hour vacation.

I finished styling the bedroom. Downstairs, Lyla styled Julie's hair.


Upstairs, the big reveal...

Kindly, quietly, respectfully, guiltily, lovingly, Julie hated it. It turns out I am as skilled with room design as Lyla is with hair design. Ah well.

So it's a work in progress. She liked the paint, and she liked what I did with one of the walls. But we have a bunch of stuff to return and a bunch of shopping to do. I'll post photos once it's done.

When a guy does something thoughtful for a girl, it's just that: thoughtful. When it fails miserably, it's still thoughtful but it's also cute, goofy, tragic, and in the end a better story. I can live with that.