Mom on the Run: Maybe guessing game should have a three-question limit

I've just hung up the phone, and I'm excited. I mean, it's silly, but, "Guess what?!" I exclaim to my daughter. "That was Grandmom on the phone. My birthday present is coming tomorrow!"

"What is it?" my 16-year-old asks. "I'm not telling you," I say smugly. "I thought of something I really want, something I would never, ever get myself, and she and Granddad found it. It's totally crazy, and it's going to be a surprise."

Of course, that sets her mind whirring. A challenge! She proceeds to guess.

"Is it shoes?" That's reasonable, my parents often give me shoes. "Nope." "Something you wear?" "No." She stops and thinks for a minute. "A clock?" "No." "A lamp?" I shake my head. "A power tool?" I laugh. "A power tool? Would I be excited about that?"

"Hmmm." She changes direction, she goes vague, aims for generalities rather than specifics. "Does it stand on its own?" I think about that for a minute. I know what I told my mom, but I don't know exactly what she ordered. "I hope so." I tell her. "That's what I asked for."

"Is it decorative?" "Yes." "Is it ostentatious?" "Ostentatious?" "Yeah, you know, flashy and loud." "I know what the word means! Well, " I have to stop and think. I guess some people would consider this item to be ostentatious. Since it's something I like and want, of course I don't think so. "Sort of. I mean, maybe."

"Is Dad going to let you put it up?" she asks, crossing her arms. "LET me?" I ask back, arching my eyebrows. "OK," she concedes, "Is he going to roll his eyes when you do put it up?" I grin. "Probably."

"OK, then, is it flamingoes? For the lawn?" "Flamingoes?!" I burst out laughing. "Uh, no, I think I've had enough of flamingoes." (Last year we had a church mission trip fundraiser where people paid to have a flock of flamingoes delivered to other people's front yards. Somehow I became the primary flamingo ferrier, they seemed to be in the back of my minivan all summer.) But her guess is uncomfortably close to the truth, and I drag out my reaction, hoping to distract her. "Flamingoes," I chuckle. "Yeah, right."

"OK. Is it something on TV?" Ah, she's taking another tack. "No. Well, I have seen one on TV sometimes." "Is it something from a book?" "Not really, but when I was a kid my parents had a book about it."

"Is it red?" "Red?" Where did that come from? Strange. "I'm hoping part of it is. I don't really know what Grandmom ordered. But that shouldn't be the only color." "Does it have a pattern?" "No, I don't think so. At least, I hope not."

And then, out of the blue, "Is it a lawn gnome?" "A lawn gnome?" "You know, a gnome. For the lawn. Red hat, blue shirt. They stand there. On their own two feet. Ostentatiously." Instantly I engage my best acting skills. "A gnome? Ha ha ha! Don't be silly!"

Man! How'd she guess? "Ha ha!" I laugh some more. It's all I can do.

Lianne Wilkens lives with her family in Manassas. She can be reached at .