Kiss Me or Kill Me?

Because our children are still all 12 and under, and because we have good friends who could get us good deals (including letting us sleep on their Florida floor), Dr. Stevens and I are taking the boys to Walt Disney World next week. We have been telling EVERYBODY we know (and now, thanks to the interwebs, a few of you we don't know) all about it.

But we haven't told our sons.

That's right--we're planning to ride the entire cliche, including filming that "hop in the car, we're going to Disney" moment.

Actually, that's not true: I don't even plan to tell them then. I went to AAA and got myself an old-fashioned paper Triptik, and when they ask where we're going I'm going to rip out a page and say: To the bottom of this page. I have 16 hours of torment in the car coming my way and I figure I should get to perpetrate some of it.

I will be interested to see how they react when the news is finally revealed. My oldest is halfway to figuring it out. He's one of those people who wants  to be surprised, but doesn't want to look dumb. He'll nod sagely and tell me he knew it all along, surpressing his squeals of excitement. My middle child will bounce around like those colored plastic balls in the popcorn popper rolling toy. My kindergartner will put his hands over his mouth and his eyes will pop wide.

I know people, however, to whom I could never do this. They hate surprises. They'd burst into tears, regardless of whether the news I drop in their lap is good or bad. For them, the fight-or-flight is just too strong and they can't reinterpret the news quickly enough to channel their reaction.

What about you? If you were my baby boy (stay with me, here) would you want to kiss me or kill me?