I stink at keeping secrets from my husband.
It's just so abnormal--we talk about most everything. Actually, we talk alot...more than most married people I think.
It's one of my favorite things about him. He enlightens me about sports trivia and he tells me in great detail about his work. We talk music, a little television, books and news. We talk about alot of things as a way of connecting. I tell him about scrapbooking, stores, styles, idea books, scrap-controversies, and 2Peas.
The thing is...sports trivia holds no interest for me. Zip. Zero. Nada. But you'd be surprised what I know about sports because it gives us something to talk about (beyond the kids) and it's important to him.
I'm fairly positive that my assessment of the merchandising in three different scrapbooking stores does not exactly glue him to the edge of his seat...but you'd be surprised at the things he notices when he ventures into a new store with me. It's obvious he listens because it's important to me.
I like that we talk a great deal.
But it does make keeping secrets difficult. Especially for me.
See, there's a secret I have to keep until the weekend. It's a wonderful thing that he's going to love. It's going to be an amazing surprise.
But it's killing me not be able to talk to him about it.
Deception is not one of my better traits. I'm thinking that's usually a good thing...just not this week.