Hubby's Days

Hubby's birthday is so close to father's day, it's a problem to figure out how to celebrate them both. We usually celebrate Father's Day on Father's Day, but his birthday can be bumped anywhere from a couple of weeks to a couple of months behind the real day, depending on his schedule, and the scheduling of my nieces' summer birthdays, since in the grand scheduling of holidays, kids take precedence. The longest we went between his actual birthday and the celebration was some time in August. This year we actually celebrated within a week of his birthday. Birthdays for the adults in my family are usually pretty small, my folks always want to attend and part of their gift is babysitting while he and I go do something. We went to a movie and then went mattress shopping. Not exactly thrilling, but it was what he wanted to do.

Father's Day was a bigger deal. Since he usually does such wonderful things for me for mother's day, I was feeling pretty inadequate about the fact that I had made no special effort for Father's day. We had a couple of gifts to give him, but I hadn't made a garden in the living room, or cooked a big breakfast, or anything like what he usually does.

While I was mulling this over on the afternoon of Father's Day I had an inspiration. I decided to turn our living room into a day spa. Our old mattress bothers his back (see how we spent his birthday) and he's always wanting a massage, so this seemed a good answer. The girls helped with the transformation. Thing 1 and 2 made signs. I hung a sheet between the dining room and living room to divide the two rooms into a reception area (the dining room) and a massage area (the living room). I brought the kid's table from the back yard to serve as a reception desk. When everything was ready Thing 1 told Hubby to come into the kitchen, then disappeared to her position. Thing 2 sat at her desk at the doorway from the kitchen to the dining room.

When Hubby followed Thing 1's signs to the Golden Day Spa --> Thing 2 was waiting for him. She was super polite. She greeted him in her best receptionist manner. "How can I help you, Kind Sir?" He was amused but not sure how to proceed. She asked if he had an appointment. He said "No."
Wrong answer. He hadn't rehearsed with us. But she took it like a pro. She said, "Well, let me see if you're on my list. What is your name?"
He gave her his first name.
She looked over her list of four names which she had written moments before. She hesitated. "What is your last name, sir?"
Lucky for him she found his name, first and last, on the list.


I don't think he noticed the "Best Spa" award Thing 2 had made to hang above her reception desk.


She showed him to the waiting room - a chair pulled to the corner of the dining room, and gave him a magazine. She pointed out the lovely painting in our waiting room (which she drew herself) and invited him to enjoy his wait.


Thing 1 then came out from behind the curtain, ushering our previous massage appointment. It was Kelso, with a towel clipped across his shoulders. She was leading him with a rope that he likes to trot around with in his teeth, and she chatted with him, asking him if he enjoyed his massage. (Using the dog as the previous appointment was Thing 1's idea.) (They wanted to figure out a way to work in the gecko, but I nixed that idea.)

Thing 1 then ushered Hubby to the dressing room (the small front entry alcove next to the living room), where she invited him to remove his shirt, and then she guided him to me, the masseuse, waiting in the living room. The coffee table was pushed to the side and I had laid towels on the floor, and had emptied our linen closet to place towels folded up all over the place. I'd had quite a time keeping the dog from messing them up.

The girls have never been to a spa, and their excitement at the whole process kept Hubby's massage from being very relaxing. I hadn't expected much privacy, but they kept up a continuous parade of patrons, taking turns escorting each other through the living room with towels across their shoulders, chatting about what fine massages they'd had, and what a great establishment the Golden Day Spa is. I finally sent them to watch TV for half an hour.
They were back in about 20 minutes theatrically whispering to me that it was time to send Daddy through the "gift shop" where he would receive his specially wrapped gifts.
I was quite pleased with how it all fell together, and it was fun to have the girls so excited to be involved.