I wonder where the saying "I pulled the wool over his eyes" came from. I know it means to get one over on someone, but seriously was this the only thing someone could think of to describe it?
According to a Google search this is what I could find:
The actual source is unknown, and although this expression was first recorded in America (1839), it's thought to be of older, English origin. 'Wool' here is the hair of wigs. In the 19th century, the status of men was often indicated by the size of their wigs - hence our word 'bigwig' to indicate importance. Judges often wore these poor-fitting wigs, which frequently slipped over the eyes, and it may have been that a clever lawyer who tricked a judge bragged about his deception by saying that he pulled the wool over his eyes. Such 'bigwigs' were worth robbing. Street thugs would pull the wig down over the victims eyes in order to confuse him - the 'wool had been pulled over his eyes'.
One wonders where I am going with this, but I do have a point. For several months I have been conspiring with Mr. Finn's best friend and wife to surprise him for his Birthday. It is worth noting that he is much older than I and he will be turning 46 tomorrow.
I received an email on my favorite mode of communication (Facebook) from Jenny asking to talk to me without Mr. Finn knowing. I quickly agreed because I am always up for "pulling the wool" over on my husband for his benefit. Besides he is so hard to keep a secret from so it would be a great challenge and have a great payoff for me. Mainly the satisfaction that he didn't have a clue. For those that know him, know that this is no easy feat as he will keep at you until you cave.
When it was understood that Homer would be flying in on a Thursday night, I was nervous. How was I going to get out of the house on a Thursday night? It would certainly raise and eyebrow or a question that I wouldn't be able to answer. Then...as the good Lord does, he provided a means for me to be away from the home on that night. The Young Women's activities were changed from Wednesday to Thursday nights which would usually annoy me, but I think this was one of those times when two birds were killed with one stone. The only problem that I could still foresee was that I needed to be home by 9 in order to avoid detection and Homer's flight was scheduled to arrive at 8:40. See my dilemna? Airlines are never on time. After a few weeks of my being late arriving by 9 p.m. we came to a mutual agreement that 9:30 would be the time for me to be done with my duties.
I love when a good plan comes together. I was able to save enough cash to purchase the baseball tickets without any scrutiny for a large purchase on a credit card. And, as luck would have it, the manager at the grocery store facilitated the means to get a free ticket, much reducing my costs. See how the blessings of doing something for someone come pouring in.
Not that Mr. Finn rested from his almost daily interrogations/queries into what we were doing for his Birthday. I was able to keep myself busy, exhausted and slightly edgy in order to pull of my poker face. He is difficult to withstand...much like a certain 3 & 5 year old I know.
The night arrived and I headed off to the airport on time. That certainly didn't help the airline to keep up their end of the deal and he was over 25 minutes late. I was starting to panic. I was losing my window of opportunity to surprise my husband in a good mood. Then to top of matters, Homer's luggage didn't make it on a direct flight from Denver. How does that happen? The worst part is that I realized that I had given him our home phone number and not my cell phone. I was starting to get heart palpitations. What would I do if he called the house? I could only imagine the surprise being shot down because I was so brain dead from painting my entire house.
I was able to get a call through to him as he was dialing the house. See...hand of Lord...working miracles. We met up and headed home, arriving only 5 minutes late. A major victory in my world...not so much in my husbands. I asked Mr. Finn if he would like part of his present early and headed upstairs expecting to hear the doorbell ring in the 3 minutes like we had planned. Either I was in slow motion or that was longer than 3 minutes and once again I started to get really nervous. Especially since my husband was not attired to greet company.
As the doorbell finally rang, I yelled down to Mr. Finn to get that please. (He knows I won't open the door at night...big chicken...many others things not meant for this story.) I threw him some more suitable clothes down for answering the door and snuck down with my camera. He opens the door to Homer and is excited to the best of his ability. I snapped two photos and my battery died.
See...I started getting a little too gleeful at what I had been able to pull off! Happens every time.
I am grateful for my husband. He is a good man. The Lord knew I needed someone like him. If you are reading this Mr. Finn...don't get to excited about that! I do love you...there is more truth in that than anything else.