The surprise is ruined.
I called to speak with my mother the other night, and got my sister first. We have been conspiring ever since I decided to take the other job to surprise my mother - we wouldn't tell her that I will actually be home for the Holidays. As soon as we said our hellos she said "Did you tell Mom you were coming home for Christmas?" I said no. "She asked me if you were coming home, since you are finished work on the 22nd and the only reason you were staying in Montreal was for work." How did she know I was finishing on the 22nd? I hadn't spoken with anyone from home after giving my two weeks' notice, so hadn't told anyone the precise date. "I didn't say anything, I don't know how she knows. Maybe she's just a super-suspicious person."
When I got my mom on the phone, I finally officially spilled the beans - partly because if she's already suspicious, chances are she'd figure it out by next week, and partly cause I knew that if she took the time and spent the money to send our presents here and then we hauled them all the way back she would be alternately ashamed of my inefficiency and ticked that we made her go to the trouble of sending them.
Me: "How did you know I was finished working on the 22nd?"
Her: "I read it on your blog."
She has NEVER mentioned reading my blog before. It's like she's some kind of blog spy, like she thinks my opinions on the blog differ from my real-life opinions and that she will find out something really juicy if she just bides her time and silently gathers reconnaissance. She must be disappointed that I write pretty much exactly how I speak, and that I don't really keep a lot of secrets.
Well, now she's learned. She's ruined her own Christmas surprise. And blown her cover.