A surprise ends when the news arrives; its preparation may remain a fond memory much longer.

The reveal takes about four seconds. Everything before it was weeks of quiet arranging, of keeping a straight face, of two people conspiring over something they could not mention, and that part turns out to be what people remember years later. The pleasure was mostly in the making, and it belonged to the ones doing the hiding. Which means a surprise is a gift in both directions, though only one direction is visible on the day.

If you are planning something, let the preparation be enjoyable rather than merely secret. Bring one other person in, take your time, and treat the weeks beforehand as the actual event.