The best anniversary gift ever

My heart is so full.

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

On the night of our third anniversary, I was too exhausted to open my surprise envelopes from the woman I love.

She took the time to stuff three. On the front of the first, Triest wrote, “Do you know what today is?”

Clearly, I didn’t.

Inside was a heartfelt card I read only after I finished dish duty. Her words perfectly expressed her appreciation for me and our love. Yet I lacked the decency to acknowledge her effort. I didn’t have the energy. All I could think about was climbing in bed.

If that wasn’t rude enough, I immediately made the night worse when I actually opened my mouth.

I walked into the bedroom. I spotted a pair of envelopes resting on our pillows. The first read, “It’s our…” The second read, “Anniversary!”

Still in Triest’s view, I slumped my shoulders, dropped my head and grumbled a four-letter expletive.

Thank God Triest is more patient and understanding than me.

We had been living together for less than a month, and I was less than two weeks into the 5 a.m. club. My head was spinning. I barely could remember my name.

Triest didn’t force it. She sensed my fatigue. She ignored my slights. She never made a fuss or made me feel bad. Instead, she kindly bottled up her excitement for one more day. It’s example 526,000 of why she’s easy to love.

The next day, I opened the envelopes.

A Minnesota Vikings season schedule, printed in color, sat inside the first. My heart started pumping at the sight of purple and gold. The second of three preseason games had just concluded, and the regular season opener was three weeks away.

This time, I attacked the envelope marked, “Anniversary!”

I pulled out another printout.

This one depicted two tickets to this past Sunday’s home opener against the San Francisco 49ers.

Triest knows exactly how to make me melt.

But one speed bump after another threatened her surprise. An out-of-state conference I planned to attend — but hadn’t paid for — had overlapping dates. Triest told me the conference wouldn’t work. That was my biggest clue that she’d secured tickets to the Vikings’ home opener. She wouldn’t have intervened for anything else. It’s not her style.

The game also overlapped with our weekend with Parker. There was no way to get to Minneapolis from Chicago for a noon kickoff and back in time for Parker’s 6 p.m. pickup.

To top it off, six days prior to Triest’s big reveal, promising Vikings rookie quarterback J.J. McCarthy, the team’s first-round draft pick, was ruled out for the season with a knee injury. I was devastated.

We were going to sell the tickets. And Triest tried.

Ticketmaster made it virtually impossible for Triest to sell, though. She got stuck in some mysterious, automated queue and the company never released her tickets.

While we waited, I assembled another phrase starting with the same aforementioned four-letter word and decided we deserved to go.

But as a family.

On Sept. 6, I matched Triest’s pair of tickets with two more. I told her we would make it a road trip with the girls and use the occasion to take them to the Mall of America.

My two tickets were listed for $123 each. But after $152 in tax and “fulfillment and service fees” on both tickets, my total came out to $397.38.

I booked a hotel room for one night using Marriott points I’ve accrued across two decades from working my job. They don’t stretch as far as they used to, but I might as well use them at some point. We stayed at a Four Points Sheraton not far from the Mall of America. Our stay cost 22,500 points.

Once there, I didn’t spend much time crunching numbers. I wanted our girls, Parker and Tiffany, to have fun and to create more memories.

I paid for mirror mazes, funhouses, roller coasters and candy.

Apparently 10-year-old girls still haven’t acquired the shopping bug. Crocs was the only store among the more than 500 that commanded their attention.

After the mall, we took the girls swimming at the hotel pool. I paid $27.10 for a large sausage pizza and a dozen chicken wings from Papa John’s.

We still didn’t tell the girls we were going to the Vikings game. They’re both haters and would have complained, not realizing how fortunate they are to be going to an NFL game. But neither cares much for sports outside of mocking me for my purple passion — which I put on full display Sunday.

A chatty woman named Gail swam in the pool when we entered Saturday night. She was a balloon twister. Unsolicited, she made the girls swords, which helped to make their swim time much more enjoyable.

Gail later told me she also paints faces and would gladly do the girls’ on Sunday morning. They said sure, and I quickly realized Gail hustled me.

Because I knew there was no way Gail could keep her lips sealed, I had to tell Parker and Tiffany about the Vikings game before going downstairs. I made them close their eyes before placing two T-shirts across their bed. A gold shirt for Parker. A purple shirt for Tiffany.

Neither cared when they opened their eyes. I made them put them on anyway.

The four of us then met Gail for face-painting in the lobby a little after 8 a.m.

I paid homage to legendary Vikings defensive lineman John Randle. Only with a purple and gold twist. Parker chose a pineapple. Tiffany chose a sunflower.

When she sat, Triest provided example No. 526,001 of why she’s easy to love. She had Gail paint “SKOL” across her face in gold letters, with a purple outline. She already wore a purple V-neck shirt with a Vikings logo.

“She doesn’t even care about the Vikings,” I told Gail when Triest went to the ladies’ room. “She just cares that I care.”

“Those are the best partners,” Gail told me.

Then I tipped Gail $20 and we left for the stadium.

I made a pit stop at a small Mexican restaurant and grocery store for tamales. I ordered eight thinking we’d split two apiece, but these were the fattest tamales I’ve ever seen. It was no wonder they cost $4.25 each and came in a large foil pan.

Those tamales, which came out piping hot, turned into the perfect tailgate grub. I cracked open a Surly Furious IPA, turned on my portable speaker and danced with the girls in the parking lot.

At 10 a.m., we made a half-mile walk from the parking lot to the stadium. I got goosebumps as I grabbed Tiffany’s hand, connecting the four of us, as we entered a crosswalk. I looked at Triest, smiled and said “My heart is so full.”

To keep the girls entertained, we started at the free fan festival just outside of U.S. Bank Stadium. The girls sprinted to an inflatable structure, assuming it was a bouncy house. They were disappointed to discover football drills. They played Connect Four and Jenga instead.

We took an adorably cheesy family photo in front of an enormous inflatable Vikings player. Then at 10:49 a.m., we walked into the stadium. I’d been before. It was everyone else’s first time.

We watched warm-ups from the first row of the 100 section. Vikings legendary safety Harrison Smith walked over and greeted his wife and infant daughter right in front of us. Vikings superstar wide receiver Justin Jefferson then walked over and kissed his mother and girlfriend and hugged his father and brother right in front of us.

Just before heading to our seats upstairs, we looked up at the big screen and saw our painted faces.

By 12:30, less than 30 minutes into the game, Parker was sleeping.

But I didn’t mind. She joined me in the 5 a.m. club all weekend. She told me she’s committed to 5 a.m. starts for as long as I am. I let her rest her head on my shoulder. I settled down on my antics for the last half of the first quarter.

But when Jefferson burned the 49ers defense for a 97-yard touchdown, Parker had to wake up.

It was time to get our griddy on.

We were sitting in the end zone, albeit high up, that Jefferson scored in. It felt like the play was coming right at us. I had the perfect view for quarterback Sam Darnold’s bomb from the opposite end zone.

I didn’t care what else happened. My Vikings had provided another lifetime memory. And I got to share it with the people I love the most.

Against the Super Bowl caliber 49ers, I simply hoped for the best. But our defense dominated in a 23-17 win, and our Vikings are now 2-0.

My anniversary gift turned into an impromptu family getaway.

But it was worth every penny.