Hello There, Mr. Weber.

First of all, you should know that Matt and I never exchange expensive gifts.  For birthdays and Christmas, we usually have a limit somewhere between $30-50.  But this year he bought me a camera.  And it is amazing.  And apparently we decided that for the month of December 2010, we would be ballers.

Because since he'd gotten something so great for me, I felt like I needed to reciprocate.

So I did.

Our grill had broken a few weeks before, see, and I'd seen the way Matt swooned over the ones at the store.  I decided to surprise him with a Weber grill.  I ordered it online, and had a plan to track it like a maniac, intercept the package, and then put it together while he was at work.  Then I was going to hide it in the guest room closet until Christmas morning when I would wheel it out to the living room with a big bow.  And it would be the best Christmas surprise!

Except a few things happened.

1.  I am terrible at keeping big fun secrets.
2. The package was delivered while we were at a solstice party that our friends were throwing, so I couldn't intercept it.
3. I am terrible at keeping secrets.
4. The box was way too big and way too heavy to keep Matt from seeing it. (Even though we had our friend Brian go home before us and hide it in the back yard--he possesses some sort of super-human strength because he moved that seven-ton box all by himself!)
5. I was drunk from the solstice party, and am terrible at keeping secrets.
6. Matt had figured out that something was up, and was very suspicious.
7. Once I got home and he questioned me, all I could do was put my face inside my shirt and laugh a lot.

Finally, Hugh and Cassie said that I needed to just give it to him already, because I was too weak and undisciplined to keep the surprise going.  Plus, we were having Savannah Family Christmas the next night, and it was supposed to be nice and warm out, and then Matt could use his new gift.

So this was Matt's solstice surprise.

And then Hugh--wonderful, smart, patient Hugh--put the grill together the next day while Cassie and I ate sandwiches and went grocery shopping.

Isn't it gorgeous?

And apparently it is awesome, or so says my husband, the grill master. 

I've got to concur, because that hot dog that he brought me and that I ate while writing this post sure didn't taste like it was cooked on any ol' hobo grill, that's for damn sure.