Yesterday we went to a four year-old’s pirate birthday
party.
It was a bit hectic getting there, what with the
bridge being closed, me getting muddled on directions, and G urging me to go to
the gym for 20 minutes before we should have left in order to get there on time, because I was rather anxious about this restaurant we’re planning to
open…without having all the money we need yet to open it.
Details.
Who needs them?
So, after I’d thrown a few weights about the gym, done
a couple of squats and managed to suppress my anxiety to a socially acceptable level at least,
we were on our way, Q dressed in her party best. (A very groovy second-hand dress given
to us by the owners of said 4 year-old).
My friend opened the door and when she did I wondered why she was
wearing a gypsy skirt and a bandana, and then it occurred to me that she was a
pirate of sorts and I felt bad because I hadn’t interpreted the invite as
a dress-up too.
Lame.
So, in we went, late and un-costumed. The losers on
the invite list.
I find kid’s parties exhausting.
Come on, admit it, don’t you?
Typically you haven’t had an adequate enough breakfast
to see you through the experience, and unless you’re willing to overdose on
fairy bread and cupcakes, (thereby giving yourself a massive sugar high and
equally massive headache) that is unlikely to change.
And so you spend the hours having fractured
conversations with the adults while you run after your small human as they head
straight for the edge of the deck, the climbing frame or the fairy bread.
If there’s one thing Q doesn’t need, it’s more energy.
No sugar for her.
Two hours later, after you've refereed countless fights
between two 14 month olds who don’t understand or care for the word ‘share’,
you’re on your way, stuffing the banana in your mouth that you stole from the
hosts’ fruit bowl, telling them it was for Q.
1 year-old birthday parties typically don’t include a
lolly bag, because their most favoured treat is their mother’s milk and that
would just be weird, but 4 year-old parties do.
By then our hunger was starting to win out, so before we were even out of the drive, G and I were at our pirate best, greedily devouring Q’s collection of freckles, milk bottles
and fortune cookies.
Every pirate party has fortune cookies.
Everyone knows that.
What’s funny is that mine said ‘resist the urge to change your plans.’
Sometimes you find providence in the oddest of places.
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