Are you a peeker?
I have never been one to peek. I never shook my Christmas presents or tried to unwrap them at night. I never even guessed really, preferring to just store up anticipation until Christmas morning. I didn't really want to figure it out. I wanted to be surprised. (And since we were NEVER Christmas List people, I almost always was.)
This sort of drove my mom crazy when we were younger. She liked for us to guess. She thought the guessing game was part of the fun. My dad on the other hand never glanced twice at his gifts, only to pick one up on Christmas day and tell you exactly what was inside. That drives us crazy.
And now, I hear all manner of noises coming from the upstairs all day while I work. Banging and ripping and hammering and scraping. When Tom was actually painting yesterday I got worried at the silence and yelled upstairs to make sure he hadn't passed out.
I feel like I'm supposed to go check in. After all, we're paying someone to do the work, so I need to make sure that we're on the same page. I should certainly intervene before anything goes too off track. I don't want to be disappointed and I don't want him to exert effort in the wrong direction.
But... part of me wants to just let him do his thing and walk upstairs for the big reveal when it's all over.
It's been a week. The suspense is killing me.