It’s the end of the year, and quite honestly I am tired of kiddies birthday parties! My humblest apologies to all those who are born in the last few months of the year but my enthusiasm, and there was very little to begin with, has waned!
Eldest is still at the age where moms are required to attend these birthday parties. The worst party time for me is the Friday afternoon! This is when Wee One generally needs his afternoon nap and taking an overstimulated 2-year-old to a party is a nightmare! While I run around, trying to stop him from climbing to the top of the jumping castle or shoving more than one sweet in his mouth, the other mothers sit in their little groups, sipping tea and complimenting the hostess on her fabulous cake. I constantly clock watch, waiting for each half hour to pass so that I can smile at the mothers, say goodbye and make sure my child thanks the hostess for the lovely party. By the end of the two-hour party, I generally leave dragging one child behind me and holding the youngest in a vice like grip, looking like I had the party of my life!
When that time arrived on Friday I gathered up my troops and sent Eldest off to do the ‘polite routine’ by thanking the party mom.
These days something called a ‘party pack’ has been accepted as normal party etiquette, although I totally disagree with this practice. Each child is given a bag or box of goodies on departure to continue the gorge fest when they get home, much to the joy of the mother who already has her offspring buzzing on a sugar high. So you can imagine my joy when he emerged with his ‘loot box’ of chocolates and sweets! Imagine my horror when it was accompanied by a clear plastic bag filled with water and a goldfish swimming around in it!!!
I kid you not! Each child was sent home with a real live goldfish! My son was overjoyed! If I’d known that we would be receiving this parting gift I would have made a quick and impolite exit down the road!
My son has named him Luka and as I was totally unprepared for the new addition to our family, my salad bowl has had to suffice as our gold fellow’s first home.