Archives for August 2009

If you asked me to describe the birthday party I wouldn’t hesitate to say that it felt a bit like these two videos by the Red Russian Army Choir & Leningrad Cowboys. Stop wiping your eyes, you read it correctly the first time.

Simple tunes that were turned into major productions that magically retained their simplicity. Don’t ask me what that means, I am tired. I just finished cleaning up mystery items that were left as gifts by the hordes of children and assorted guests.

For those of you who weren’t fortunate enough to witness the dark haired beauty in all her glory let’s undergo a short recap. As previously stated this venture into the dark side took place here on the Ponderosa minus Hoss and Little Joe, although I am pretty sure that Rooster Cogburn made a guest appearance.

There was a Hello Kitty theme to this party. This made the dark haired beauty’s eldest aunt quite happy as she had a thing for the ferocious feline too. It included basic entertainment, much of which was provided by your’s truly.

I suppose that I should clarify by saying that I found it exceptionally entertaining to tell the children that I had stuffed the pinata full of broccoli, zucchini and brussel sprouts. SInce most of them were five or younger they were naive enough to believe that I was telling the truth. One girl was positively irate until I told her that her mommy insisted that she only be given apples to eat. Once I said that she shrugged her shoulders and said, “you did speak to her.”

Additional entertainment was provided by the bounce house, also known as a moon bounce, bouncie and that big blue noisy thing. Again it served as a major source of entertainment for me as I took great pleasure from jumping alongside the kids. Let me tell you, they loved it. Every time I landed it launched them fifteen feet through the air. There was much squealing and only a few tears. But that kid was a total baby, I told him to watch out. It is not my fault that I landed on his toe.

On a side note, it is implortant to remember not to call a kid stinky in front of his mother. For some reason they frown upon grown men taunting their children. Again, not my fault that he is proof that some people are born with the ability to break wind upon command. Seriously, he could be a superhero of some sort, Flatulent Boy.

If I was his publicist I’d market his ability to clear a room to law enforcement or the military. He might even replace the Taser. “Hold still sir, or he’ll shoot.”

Anyhoo, I am here, stuffed full of 235 slices of pizza and ready to cut a hole in my gut to relieve the pressure. Please remind me that I don’t have to imitate a puppy and keep eating until there is nothing left on the plate in front of me.

The most important thing is that the dark haired beauty had a great time. Not to mention that she told my MIL not to bother me because daddy is the boss of the house. I am not sure what prompted that or the context of it, but when my sister told me the tale I immediately called American Girl and placed an order for the entire store.

Did I mention that I am positively delerious with exhaustion.

Tomorrow we are throwing a birthday party for the dark haired beauty. That five year-old is going to get a chance to have an old time birthday party. Yes ladies and gents, our house is going to be over run with children.

Ten thousand screaming tykes are busy dreaming now of the many different ways that they are going to terrorize us. By this time tomorrow my home will look like it was hit by a class 5 tornado and I’ll feel like I have gone 237 rounds with the best MMA fighters around. Great googly moogly, what have we done.

In days of yore these parties were regularly held at a home. That changed at some point in time, not sure exactly when, but it did. Someone figured out that it wasn’t always cheaper to hold these affairs at home and then marketed the idea to parents. It does hold a certain allure, holding a shindig elsewhere. Someone else has to do the cleaning before and after.

But this year we decided against it. No Chuck E. Cheese or Under The Sea or any of the million other places. No tea parties or dress up parties, just a good old fashioned chance to bash a pinata and play pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey. Although I should confess that given the chance I might have pushed to have this at Farrells.

Except I just don’t feel like driving out to Egypt and I am guessing neither do most of the friends. But I have got to tell you, those parties were great. I have a million great memories from them.

Anyhoo, in spite of the chaos that is coming I am excited about the party and most importantly so is she. Five years old and she is already stressing out over what party dress to wear and what shoes. She tore into her closet and made me watch as she ran through a bunch of her favorites.

Of course I reminded her that I think she is smart and beautiful and that a dress doesn’t change anything. And as expected she was so excited she had trouble sleeping so I had to climb into bed and tell her about 1,363,988 stories. Apparently I must have fallen asleep because at some point I realized that she was shaking me and complaining that I was snoring.

I suppose that if I had any sense I’d take me and my snoring and move to the bedroom now. It probably wouldn’t hurt to catch a few extra winks. It is a nice thought, let’s see if I follow through on it.