On Ten — Part 1

Boys,

Normally I like to write about you two and what is going on in your lives, but I feel like sometimes it’s important for you to get a peek into what is going on in your mom and my life.

Last week, your mom and I went to Palm Springs. It was kind of a happenstance situation where we weren’t planning on doing it, but something came up and we jumped on it, and it just so happened to fall in line with our ten year anniversary. Here’s what I mean…

A few months ago, your mom got an email from a company called Bad Birdie. BB makes golf clothes, but they also release a newsletter they call “Breakfast Balls.” Normally, the Breakfast Balls newsletter takes a humorous take on whats going on in the world of professional golf. Well, this particular newsletter included something about “The Breakfast Balls Invitational.” This was to be an invite-only golf tournament that included a round of golf, stay at a a house at the course we’d play, glow golf, and all sorts of swag and freebies.

When she got this email, we’d already had a trip planned to Rosemary Beach at the end of March and we were kind of calling that our anniversary trip. She sent me the Breakfast Balls email with an attitude of, “would this be cool. Not feasible, right?” Maybe that was my attitude, but the more we talked about how cool it would be, we finally just settled on things like this don’t come up often, and it wouldn’t hurt to submit for it — we could always say no if we were to be selected, right?

Anyway, so your mom submits an application and then starts daydreaming about how cool it would be to actually go. The course it was being played at is called Ram’s Hill, and it’s a really nice course, but the allure of it (if you want to call it that) is that it’s located ~2 hours east of San Diego in the middle — absolute M-I-D-D-L-E — of nowhere. So she gets me excited, and I secretly write in to BB and sell our story as this “hey, let’s surprise my wife for our 10 year anniversary by telling her she didn’t get in, then I’d surprise her closer to when we would leave and tell her we actually got in” kind of vibe. Actually, the first line of the email I sent to BB was, “I’m writing you this behind my wife’s back, so shhhhhhhh.“

Sidebar: I’m taking a long time laying the foundation of this story so it’s either going to be a long post or it’s going to be all set up and no delivery. Hopefully it’s the former, so feel free to break for a snack and I’ll meet you right back here.

Good? OK, so I write this big, long email with a picture of us on our wedding day and how they are going to be a part of this big surprise and how could they say no, right? Well, it works and I get an excited email back from BB telling me they love the idea and want to be a part of the surprise — after all, the day of the event is literally on the day of our 10 year anniversary.

Prior to this, we check with our friends Jacob and Julie, and despite him having another golf trip planned right after, they both agree to come with us if we get in. So about a week later, I get an email from BB that starts with, “Sorry on delay but I will waste no time on the headline—we’d LOVE for you to join us in Feb at Breakfast Balls Invitational!”

Great! We’re in. Scott with BB and I work out how we’re going to plan the surprise and we decide that they’re going to write her a “sorry you didn’t make the cut” email, then I’d tell her later. Julie and Jacob were in on the surprise and all was going to go to plan. To hold our spot, BB sent me a link where I could pay for our portion of the event.

Here’s where things took a left-hand turn. When I clicked on the link, just to see what it looked like, I didn’t pay the entry fee right away. Somehow, your mom’s email was also linked to my “account.” OK remember that. So they must have put a disclaimer in the submission form where BB was going to let those know who got in by a certain date. So that day arrives, and your mom is refreshing her email every 10 minutes or so just hoping to find out if we got in — all the while I know we’re in, and I have to play the game of texting her, “any update? Heard from BB yet? I bet they’re going to send something out at the end of the day west coast time so that’s probably what we haven’t heard anything.” Yadda, yadda, yadda.

Sidebar 2: I just put a “part 1” in the title because I can read the room. You might be getting tired and we haven’t even got on the airplane yet. Also, I know something you don’t yet and it’s going to make the story a lot longer, so we’ll come back with a part 2 to give your eyes a little breaky-break.

Where was I? OK so our emails are tied to each other, right? Well, in 2024 at least, companies will send you a “forgot something in your cart?” email to remind you about whatever shirt you might not have bought. It’s just a marketing thing to get more people to complete their purchase. Well, when I clicked on the link to look at the event page, it generated one of those emails to your mom — seems like when we were set up by BB, they attached her email to mine for the event. So later that night, your mom gets that “forgot something” email and chaos begins to ensue.

“Does this mean we’re in?”

“I don’t know. What does it say?”

“It doesn’t say anything, it’s weird. But it says I can complete the purchase. Should I do it?”

“I don’t know. I bet they send something out. I’d just wait and see if Scott (our BB contact) sends something else out” I’m grasping now. “I mean, we’re probably in, but I bet the site just sent something out on accident.”

I was doing my best, but your mom wasn’t having it. Eventually, as she started going down the road and coming up to that point of no return, I had to come clean.

“Stop what you’re doing; I have to tell you something.” With that, I told her everything and her excitement was mixed with relief — both for the fact that we did, in fact, get in, but also so that she could be the one to coordinate logistics, ensure flights, rental cars, etc. were all covered, and that there would be no issues that slipped past her that would have surely slipped past me (her thoughts, not mine).

So with that, the journey was about to begin. We had a month or so before we would eventually embark on that journey. OK, that was a lot of reading and yet, it’s just the beginning of the story. More to come in part 2…

Love you boys,

Dad