A Birthday Nightmare: A Husband’s Honest Tale of a ‘Surprise’ Getaway Gone Awry
Ah, birthdays. That magical time of the year when people expect you to feel thrilled about adding another candle to the cake. But really, who has the time or energy for all that confetti once you’ve crossed the mid-thirties threshold? Boy, do I have a story for you. Buckle up, folks, because this tale, straight from the annals of Reddit’s finest “Am I the Asshole?” forum, takes the cake—literally and figuratively.
Meet our protagonist, a 36-year-old dad who, much like a TiVo user in a Netflix world, finds himself battered by the well-intentioned yet spectacularly misguided birthday celebrations organized by his overzealous wife. Let’s dive in, shall we?
The Setup: Birthday Expectations on Life Support
Picture it: our hero, who we’ll call Mr. Meh, is just trying to breeze through another year as unobtrusively as possible. No confetti, no fireworks, just the blessedly low-key vibe of everyday existence punctuated by the occasional nap. But no! Mrs. GungHo—our plucky wife in question—decides the same old, same old isn’t cutting it. She insists on planning an elaborate birthday surprise. Now, here’s where things already start heading south.
Mr. Meh’s first mistake? When asked if he wants anything specific for his big day, our man responds with a resounding “No.” Cue the sound of impending disaster. Listen, buddy, you give a vague response you might as well kick back, sip some chamomile tea, and prepare for the bulls to charge because vague equals interpretation, and that inevitably leads to calamity.
The Grand Reveal: From Bad to Worse
Fast forward to the day of the grand reveal. Mrs. GungHo has planned a weekend trip. Sounds fun in theory, right? Wrong. First, they pile the three kiddos under six years old into the van, driving nearly two hours to reach a remote cabin. Think quaint and charming? Absolutely not. Think single-room sardine can masquerading as rustic retreat. Now, visualize Mr. Meh’s face when faced with a cabin so cramped even a hobbit might think twice. It goes without saying he’s less than impressed.
But oh, it gets better—or worse, depending on your viewpoint. A long, rocky road to the cabin leaves him more jostled than a cocktail in a shaker. Once arrived, there are no activities, no trails, and not even a hint of civilization within a reasonable distance. And because the universe clearly operates on some cruel whims, he’s then encouraged to drive back out on blistering rocky roads to fetch dinner from a local dive!
The Twists: Birthday Bash or Bizarre Ordeal?
So, here they are, stuffed into this shoebox of a cabin. Presents are opened, cake is had, and even a rare moment of birthday intimacy happens (cue the sneaky bathtub quickie). But the fun is short-lived, folks. They while away the hours in sheer desperation. Eventually, night falls, and Mr. Meh finds himself exiled to an air mattress because their youngest child needs mom nearby. Sweet dreams? Hardly.
They wake up with the crack of dawn, courtesy of non-existent curtains and the shrill cries of irritable toddlers. And what’s on the agenda? A 5k bubble and color run. Because nothing says “Happy Birthday” quite like a sweaty jog while the pitter-patter of tiny feet and tantrums soundtrack your every stride.
Our hero puts on his best fake smile and soldiers on. Despite never showing any interest in running, he decides to “ooook, let’s do it.” Call him magnanimous or masochistic; the jury’s out. The event is a flop, the kids are cranky and unwilling, and our poor Mr. Meh spends it in a frantic haze, losing his oldest child twice in the chaos.
Climax: Nap Time Meltdown
You’d think the ordeal would end there, right? Wrong again. Mrs. GungHo tells him they have to meet friends at the beach. Mr. Meh hits his limit and takes a car nap, floating on a sea of quiet despair. After a nap and a break, they finally arrive, only to be hit by toddler tantrums and meltdowns. He’d rather be home, bathed in the soft, comforting glow of familiar chaos.
The Culmination: Honesty is the Worst Policy?
Finally home, Mr. Meh dives into the dad-cleaning Olympics while his wife interrogates him about his mood. The truth bombs land hard when he tells her it didn’t seem like she planned the day with him in mind. Cue Mrs. GungHo flipping out, feeling hurt and betrayed. The birthday surprise was more akin to a Harriet the Spy mission gone rogue, but for the love of all that is holy, wasn’t she just doing her best?
Roger’s Witty Verdict
Alright, settle in for Roger’s two cents (and maybe even some change): Poor Mr. Meh is caught smack dab in the quagmire of marital expectations. The ugly truth? Nobody won this birthday battle. Sure, Mr. Meh could’ve slapped on a sunshine mask and hoped for the best. But folks, sincerity is a dying art, and when it comes to birthday surprises orchestrated for someone’s dread, not delight—Houston, we have a problem. Next time? Both need to communicate. Mrs. GungHo, maybe just a smidge more questioning and a little less assuming, yes? Mr. Meh, how ‘bout some effort in articulating your desires between yawns? And as they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions—just make sure it’s not a rocky one leading to a cramped cabin.
So there you have it, my dear readers. Yet another yarn spun in the conundrums of marital bliss. The takeaway? Aim for clarity over assumption, always. And for heaven’s sake, avoid surprise runs and tiny cabins like the plague.
Original story
My (36M) wife (37F) said she would plan something for my birthday. She asked if there was anything I wanted to do, and I told her no.
At 36, I don’t have any expectations for my birthday.
We’ve been together for 10 years, married for 7. We have 3 kids under 6, so planning activities can be tricky.
Traveling is tough and staying in uncomfortable places with kids is stressful.
So my wife plans something, packs an overnight suitcase for everyone, and loads up our van. We drive 1h 45m to a small town, then take a long, rocky, narrow road to a tiny cabin Airbnb in a remote, heavily wooded area.
It’s a single room with a galley kitchen, one bed, and a pullout couch. It’s cramped with three kids.
There’s not much to do, no walking trails, and nowhere to drive except back on that awful road. I’m asked to drive back to get dinner from a nearby bar.
I’m surprised, and not in a good way. I don’t say anything bad about the property, but I can’t hide my feelings and she can tell I’m not a fan.
We unpack, walk around, she has some gifts for me to open in front of the kids. We have cake and then spend 4-5 hours trying to pass the time.
(The highlight is sneaking in a quickie in the outdoor bathtub.) After that, we go through the tiresome routine of getting all three kids to sleep, which is extra hard in a tiny cabin.
BTW I sleep on an air mattress because our youngest co-sleeps and needs Mom at night.
We wake up early because the cabin has no curtains. My wife tells me we’re going to do a 5k bubble and color run.
I smile and say “Ooook let’s do it,” not wanting to sound disappointed but probably failing to hide it. I’m not a runner, I’ve never said I wanted to run, but whatever, let’s try it.
We pack up and head to the event.
It’s a small, cheap event on a hot day. Our two youngest don’t want to do this, but we start the race anyway.
Our oldest takes off, causing us to lose him twice. I frantically try to catch up, ending up sweaty, winded, and with aching knees.
Not fun.
After my wife finishes with our other 2 kids, we walk around a small street fair and let the kids play. It’s fine, but I’m ready to rest.
My wife tells me we’re supposed to meet friends at the beach later, so we have a 2-hour drive back, hoping the kids nap in the car. I take a nap, feeling quiet and not in a good mood.
We get to the beach and two of our kids start melting down. I’m done with the day and would prefer to be home.
Eventually they chill, we find some shade and it’s fine.
When we get home, it’s a mad dash to get the kids showered and in bed, while I unpack, clean the car and house. My wife asks what’s wrong, and I tell her I appreciate her effort, but it didn’t feel like she planned it with me in mind.
I don’t like running, I want comfort when traveling with the kids, and it was exhausting. It was a lot of effort for something not enjoyable.
She flips out, devastated that I didn’t enjoy it and angry at me for not “just being grateful somebody planned something for me.”