Day 281: Parties for Four and Twenty-Four

Well it happened.

The four year old birthday party that is. This is the birthday boy a few years ago. The picture is not from this year, or even this event; but surely making up for its inappropriate timing is the embarrassment it will cause this little boy in a few years when we tell him that this picture was on the internet. (Clearly, I am still looking for my picture and video uploading software since my hard drive crashed so brutally. But get excited! I can finally edit old videos so movies from months ago coming soon!!!)




The party overall was perfect, but just about as expected:

I was the first to lose at musical chairs (I was serving as a guide for how the game works with Kelly). The birthday boy got hopped up on sugar, started running around like a maniac and got sent to his room to calm down which made him dissolve into tears for the last 10 minutes of the party. Also expected? The phone call the day after from one of the mother’s that one of the children had a previously-undiagnosed, highly contagious disease. Pink Eye here I come. I also ruined the ‘dult cake frosting. That was certainly to be expected when gabby set me loose in the kitchen. Cooking skills are a new year’s resolution for a later time. This became clear to me when my brother (not the biggest whiz in the kitchen) had to save me.

What was unexpected: how amazing the train cake came out. One little car for each little person decorated with candy. Adorable. Also, while playing Pass the Present (the game in which many layers of presents go into one gift and you pass it around a circle until the music stops, then that person gets to open a layer and get a gift etc), I did win a jumprope. (Claire! get excited! hotel-based fitness!) I took the place of a child who had not shown up, and ended up actually liking the present I got. All the adults mocked me, however, because I had not realized when playing this game as a child that the parents timed everything so that each kid got specific presents they would like. As a kid, you sit there being very nervous that you will not get a present, or that you will not like whatever you get. And then magically everyone gets something that they enjoy more than other things. In my case, there was no planning to guarantee me a present I would like, but it turns out I like the same things as three-year-old boys named Lucas.

Other unexpected twist on my weekend? The drive home with my brother, in which he wanted to learn about the phenomenon that is “pop music” and “rap” these days. He was curious about this “fitty cent” character.

In the end, he felt that “bringing sexy back” by the infamous JT was better than expected, Brittney was crap, and that fitty was “neat-o.” I also had to explain the phenomenon of freaking and grinding. This was an undoubtedly humiliating experience that involved phrases like “remember the movie dirty dancing?” and “and then my hips move like this…” and “no, it’s not like “Jump Around” from high school dances”

It is odd…he is only thirty, and I make him sound much older. But clubbing—not so much his thing—and he got married really young, has two kids, is in law school, and as a result of these things, his similarities to my father stand out. But he enjoyed himself, I relived exciting things like Snoop Dogg back in the day, and the high quality lyrics of “Remix to Ignition.”

Now I have to run off to drink laxative tea (eeeewwwww). I am beginning a week long cleansing diet. This will be weird. I can only drink weird concoctions and drink weird tea. My doctor friends have already warned me that I’m an idiot and that this will do nothing, and that there’s no such thing as toxins really; but after ten months of travel and crap travel eating and the holidays I feel the mental benefits are worth it.

I also had a doctor’s appointment today. You know, for someone who is thinking of attending medical school, I do hate doctors a lot, I do not take their advice about fasting, and I do generally consider them somewhat idiotic. A decision to be researched further? P’raps.