It all started innocently enough. It was our first effort at a "friends" birthday party. For his previous birthdays, we had invided only family and like-family friends for a small celebration at our house. With pinatas and pin-the-tail on the donkey. This wasn't so much because we couldn't come up with better plans or venues, but because DT's just that easy-going, and that's what he wanted. And he still didn't ask for more for his 8th birthday. But as his mother, I wanted to create a "memorable" birthday.
Problem: Summer birthday. DT's birthday is the week before school starts. Who would we invite? We don't know who will be in his new class, and we don't have contact information from anyone in his old class. Do we make it easy on ourselves and plan the party for after school starts, and invite the whole class? Or have him hand-pick friends from last year, and search feverishly for addresses?
We decided to keep it in the summer. Hand-pick friends. Go-karts, mini-golf, 2 large pizzas, 2 pitchers of pop, cake and ice-cream for 10 kids at Strikes & Spares. Reserved. Money down. Invitations sent (12 of them, betting no more than that would be able to come). Now, just wait for the RSVPs to roll in....
Anyone? Three weeks crept by and the final day to RSVP... not a single response? Seriously? What? Finally. A call. Conner's able to come. And that was it! "I'm going to call everybody!" My husband thought I was NUTS. "What else do we do; we can't have a party at Strikes & Spares with one guest." Maybe they just forgot to call. So I called 11 parents and left messages. "I hope you received the invitation..."
A few parents called back yes or no, and I called the remaining stragglers again. In the end, I had heard back from 10 of the original 12. And 6 were coming. Six isn't bad, but we had hoped for closer to 10.
The day of the party, DT was so ready. We arrived early. Our table looked great. We checked out the go-karts. This was going to be the best party EVER! We waited. The staff party girl took our pizza and pop order.
First came Conner. His mom waved an epi-pen at us and gave us a quick tutorial, telling us of his allergies. Then, Ethan. Then, Tim. Time ticked on.
Three kids! Where was everybody else? We had invited 12 kids. Six said they were coming! Three kids! Really?
The staff party girl felt bad for us and reduced our party to a 5-person party, but the pizzas and pop were already ordered. Conner wouldn't be able to have any, and Tim did't want any. So DT and his only other guest took a piece. Two pizzas... lots of leftovers. Oh well. Let's have some fun.
The boys followed the staff party girl to the mini-golf course. Black light! Cool! But before they even started, DT was down. The holes were lined with brick pavers and he had fallen face-first onto the corner of one. Scraped leg. Bruised lump avove his eye. We tried to play it down, but OUCH! He tried not to cry in front of his friends, but we could see the lump growing by the second. This could need medical attention. But, he made it through all the planned festivities.
Ready to just go home, we were glad when 2 of the boys' parents came to pick up their kids (we'd have to drop the third off at his house). We'd played mini-golf and 2 rounds of go-karts. Let's just go home with our pizzas. But one of that dad's opens his wallet and starts the arcade money flowing. Come'on. Didn't we offer enough? Now we look like cheapskates for not having included the arcade in our party. And this hero-dad waltzes in with his shiny quarters for another half hour of non-sense for our sad party of 4.
Well, that's the way it happened. It was a "memorable" day, but I hope we can pull off a better 9th birthday party... in less than a month. Now, who to invite? When? Where?
1 comment:
Valerie, I rally miss you. Your stories should be made into a book----it would be a best seller in no time!
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