Apple recently introduced the iPod Nano, an .mp3 player that Daddy Types states is "so small it'll fit in your kid's pocket." But when will someone start making PDAs small enough and simple enough for children to use?
Why am I asking this? This weekend, Zoey attended three birthday parties. That was not a typo.
The first party was at noon on Saturday. Despite the fact that we would need to eat lunch first (at McDonald's, our Saturday ritual (Don't chastise me for giving McDonald's food to my child. I'd like to point out that both Morgan Spurlock and Jared Fogle have both made lucrative careers out of eating nothing but fast food for extended periods of time)) before we could go, Ella decided to take Zoey shopping for shoes earlier that morning. They returned from their excursion at 11:15 AM, giving us forty-five minutes to drive to McDonald's, eat, and then drive fifteen miles to the birthday party. Impossible.
But that didn't faze Ella. She's one of those people who, no matter how hard they try, cannot be on time for anything. Ever heard of the phrase late for one's own funeral? Ella defines it. In fact, Ella's not only going to miss her funeral, she'll probably be late for the bus to the Afterlife as well.
Zoey has inherited the "tardy gene" from her Mom. Between the two ladies of the house, Zed and I will never be on time for anything ever again.
We left McDonald's at 11:55 AM, giving us five minutes to make a fifteen-minute trip. We got about two minutes away from the party location when Ella realized she didn't have her purse. Yes, she left it at McDonald's.
It wouldn't be so frustrating if it were a one-time deal. But no, Ella leaves her purse in a restaurant once every four months or so. But she's been lucky every time; some Good Samaritan turns her purse with its contents still intact in to the manager. This time was no different. Her luck's eventually going to run out, though.
We got to the party at 12:45 PM. It was a party at a kid's gym, so Zoey immediately went climbing and jumping on the various contraptions there. At 1:00 PM, it was cake time in the party room. Zoey was somewhat disappointed because she still wanted to play, but her love of chocolate cake trumped her love of playing, so she headed to the party room with everyone else.
Soon after we sat down, Zed became upset and started crying. This surprised me a little; this kid's a homebody and, while he likes people, he hates crowds. I just figured his tantrums wouldn't begin until the second party, much less twenty minutes into the first.
So while I was tending to Zed, I looked up and saw the birthday boy—how should I put this? He was sucking the icing off his candle in a manner that looked like he was pleasuring the candle. I looked over at his father, who had a look of sheer horror on his face as he immediately put a stop to the boy's fun. A few minutes later, I overheard one mother tell another mother, "Please keep that away from him. He's a crammer." Did someone have a mini Richard Gere on their hands? Nope. I looked up and saw that the mother didn't want her son to have popcorn. Apparently he crams food into his mouth. My mistake.
With the candle fellatio and talk of cramming going on around me, the scene felt more like a degenerate bachelor party than a three-year-old child's birthday party.
We left the party at 1:30 PM, giving us an hour to make the thirty-five minute trip to the next party. Gasp! We might even be early!
On the way there, we noticed the sun was shining on Zed's side of the car, so we stopped by the house to get his shade out of our other car. We then decided to let Zoey go inside to have a potty break before we left. When we got about five minutes from the guest-of-honor's house, we pulled over so Zoey could change into her clothes. See, this was a princess party, so Zoey had to get into her princess dress, shoes, and crown.
We got to the party twenty minutes late (hey, at least we were showing improvement). The princesses at the party were busy decorating mirrors while the knights were decorating shields. Of course, ten minutes later Zoey had rid herself of her regal attire and opted to make a shield instead. Her girlie side can only show through so long before the tomboy takes charge. Tell me, if you know, what it's like to have a daughter. Because I'm only able to see brief glimpses of one.
They had a piñata, a "dragon" egg hunt, and lots of fun stuff for the kids. Backyard parties are the best.
We got home around 7:15 PM that evening. Zoey told us, "I'm all wormed out." No, honey. Your imaginary dogs might be all wormed out, but you, dear, are all worn out. We all were. Especially poor Zed.
And in case you're wondering, we actually made it to Sunday's birthday party on time. Of course, it helped that it was only three miles from our house.
Of Princess Parties And Candle Fellatio
