Parties from Hell

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All activities I planned for my kid's birthday party either went way too fast, leaving hours of chaos, or they bombed.  Pinatas last only minutes.  Kids wo cheat at “Pin the Tail on the Donkey" game. 

I've been booed.

The most recent disaster was a slumber party for my daughter and 5 friends. I’ve been doing birthday parties for years and after much pouting and resistance on my part, the party was scheduled and Krista invited several guests:

Folded-Arms Girl - wouldn’t participate in any of the 3 Ms (music, movies or makeup)

Painfully-Shy Girl - wouldn’t speak to anyone but my daughter

Passed-Out Girl – slept through everything past 8 pm, even my “Do you want me to call your mother?” reputation-tarnishing question delivered at 3:30 am, when ‘Folded-Arms Girl’ became rambunctious with a microwave popcorn bag on her head.

Overly-Sensitive Girl - wept twice (I still don’t know why), and bawled when ‘Painfully-Shy Girl’ spilled orange soda on a corner of her sleeping bag.

The Godfather - The pinkie-to-her lips “Dr. Evil”, who rallied the girls to her side and performed a coup. She even took over control of my dog.

One of the main activities was the “Decorate your Own Cupcake” course. ‘Folded-Arms Girl’ really got into this activity, and instead of making her cupcake pretty, started a contest amongst the other girls of “Who can pile up the most frosting?” ‘Painfully-Shy Girl’ took one bite of her cupcake mountain and ran to the bathroom...for 20 minutes. When I tapped on the door and said:

“Are you o.k.?” three times, each with increasingly urgency, she finally, meekly, squeaked out, 

“I’m fine.”

The high-octane cupcake sugar fueled “The Godfather,” who avoided all planned fun, enlisting our dog in “Attention/At East” exercises. At one point the dog slipped me a note that said, “Help me.” I sent one back that read, “Hey—tonight it’s every animal for herself. Bite her if you want.”

Following dog obedience, “The Godfather’ returned to the group, coaxed the girls into smearing the colored frosting all over their faces, like war paint. Visions of “Lord of the Flies” danced in my head. Even Krista fell under the influence of the dark side. Even Krista.

I, the living embodiment of the “Survivor” theme--outwitted and outplayed and outlasted, have given up on birthday parties. 

I’ll pay anyone, anything to do it for me next time.


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