Nice surprise

A nice surprise

Surprise, surprise...
I’m not sure if anyone has ever said that to me or anyone I know.
Generally, we talk about everything under the sun, leaving little room for surprises, and I don’t really mind. The unexpected ones tend to be unpleasant, the kind that bring stress, the kind I’d rather avoid. What counts as a nice surprise is personal.

Lately, my head has been aching, a thousand things to remember, to arrange. Surprises? Plenty, always at work: unwelcome twists, unhappy or even aggressive customers. I could list them, but I won’t. Once I shut the door behind me, work stays there. Home is where I do my own thing. Work and private life stay separate, as they should.

Soon, it will be time for birthdays and holidays. Mom and I are celebrating together this year, quietly. A house full of people? Hard pass, to put it politely. We’ll hang up streamers, buy cake, do what we enjoy, but playing host hasn’t been our thing for years, let alone gifts. Gifts just highlight how little people know you, how little they care, even after decades (family being the worst offenders). Maybe Mom’s friend knows us best, aside from each other, but even she doesn’t need to bring anything. Some company and a good laugh? That’s all we care about, and we’re perfectly capable of supplying both ourselves.

Like Mom, I think aging has its perks: no more bending to expectations, just being yourself, doing what you want. And surprise parties? Absolutely not our style.

Has anyone here ever had one? Am I the only one who hears "surprise!" and braces for bad news? Or is it a cultural thing?

prompt: a nice surprise by @freewritehouse