Secrets

I beg. I plead. I throw a fit. I NEED TO KNOW!

But, secretly, I like secrets.

Chad won't tell me where we're going for our anniversary tonight (all I know is our reservation is at 9 p.m. somewhere in Old Town).

I've been giving him all the reasons in the world why I really need to know (what to wear! what if I accidentally eat the same thing for lunch! what if I need to mentally prepare for this type of cuisine!), but I'm kind of excited that I have no idea.*

Besides, all I really care about is that I can wear a cute dress. The restaurant is sort of secondary.

*Please don't tell Chad. He doesn't read this blog anyway.