That’s exactly what happened over Easter weekend, when I initially thought I had a brilliant idea.
A few days before Easter I thought about the long six-month stretch since I’ve seen my son and daughter-in-law. Then I thought about how warm and sunny it is in Florida and how springtime is just now tiptoeing around to Indiana.
After all of that thinking I called my daughter-in-law and told her that a friend of mine was launching a new restaurant and offered her and my son a complimentary pizza. What date and time would work with their crazy busy schedule for the pizza delivery?
Then I threw some clothes in a bag and left southwest Florida, fully intending to surprise my son and daughter-in-law by showing up at their house with pizza in hand.
The plan would have gone great, except for a few problems.
First, I didn’t think about the fact that 11 million sunburned spring breakers would be on the road, heading north, at the same time as me.
Second, I assumed that my son and daughter-in-law would be busy with family visits for Easter and wouldn’t even think about where I was or what I was doing.
And third, since I gave my phone an accidental bath a couple of months ago, it has been as menopausal as its owner. I can’t depend on it to always ring when someone calls.
I arrived in Indiana late on Easter Sunday and stayed with friends. But I couldn’t get online at their house. I didn’t think about that too much since I was far past exhausted and just wanted to go to bed, anyway.
The following morning I found several text messages from my son and daughter-in-law, telling me they had been up all night, worried to death. They couldn’t find me. Where was I?
So I called my son, explained the phone problem, the online issue and the fact that all I really wanted was to sneak up to Indiana and surprise them with a pizza and a visit.
I never intended to cause anyone any kind of drama.
But my phone failing to ring, along with the fact that I wasn’t on Facebook for 20-plus hours made them wonder what was going on with me. My kid even sent the police to my little baby house in Florida to check on me.
Hmm … if I’m not on my phone or fooling around online, I must be in some kind of jeopardy … that actually means, of course, that I am way too predictable, doesn’t it?
Next time I decide to be impulsive, to throw caution to the wind and do something totally unexpected, I will need to remember to let someone know.
That expectation kind of cramps my style, to tell you the truth.
But I’ll work on it since it really wasn’t pleasant to be scolded by my 32-year-old son for not checking in.
Now he knows how I felt when he was a teenager. And I know how much they love me.