No... not me... my father-in-law. He has been married longer than I have been alive and met his wife (his first and only wife mind you) when he was in the second grade.
Cut to this weekend when he and I escaped a house full of women preparing for the Oscars to go to Weak Knee Brewshop (thanks yet again Bill at Weak Knee). As I'm getting ringed up I see him pick up a 3 gallon Better Bottle and take out his wallet. "Your birthday is coming up and I never know what to get you" he says. Awesome, thanks Dad. Problem is the wife and I have a constant discussion about brew supplies and space. Her feeling is that our apartment cannot support a carboy without looking like a laboratory. I mention this. I am battling excitement against nervousness.
"James... here's what we are going to do. I am going to put this in the back of your car in a black bag. You arent going to tell her anything about it until you are on the Turnpike back. Tell her its my fault, and I'll back you up.
And thats what I did. What did my wife do? She laughed. "Oh man you two are an evil cabal!" When we got home she took a look at it. "Yeah thats a lot more reasonable a size than I thought. Lets turn the hall closet into your brew space. You could fit 2 or 3 of those in there even."
What What What??
And then she picked up some paint so we can design a designated brew closet this weekend.
I am stunned.
Im totally going to watch this man's moves a lot more often.