Saturday, January 28, 2006

Why I'm Glad I Only Had One Child: Reason 642


Because I only have one child I only have to oversee one child's birthday party per year. Kid parties. Blech.

The truth of the matter is that there isn't a thing about today's event which demands a lick from me. There is one guest who is probably too young to really be involved and may be a drama queen but if she is I will bundle her up and take her weepy little arse home. Otherwise, it won't be anything like the days when party guests were small and ridiculous and needed constant supervision to keep anyone from being bored (the kiss of death at a child's party) or wounded.

And also unlike the days of old when there was an expectation of a theme and a detailed program including some craft or other entertainment that everyone would hopefully talk about for days afterward, we have now entered the realm where 'hanging out' is acceptable. There is a pinata to whack because who doesn't like that. Otherwise it's just presents, cheesecake and "whatever" until I feed them pizza in front of a movie. When the credits roll I will send them all to the other end of the house and The Spouse and I will camp out in the family room and watch "A Very Long Engagement". We'll feed them pancakes in the morning (or maybe even waffles) and send them away.

So what is the big deal? I didn't even have to make the cheesecake or the pizza. I think I'm having a post-traumatic stress flashback.

For the first four years of The Child's life birthday parties were a big, fun affair with family and friends. Kids attended but it wasn't a "kid party". It was like any other event, with great food and wine, except that people brought presents and there was cake. This was big fun.

When she started school, however, the expectations changed. She wanted a party with only kids and balloons and all that cool stuff. And she wanted to invite the girls from her class at school. There were only 5 of them but, until the arrival of the fabulous Cassie in 1st grade, none of them were nice to The Child. (There were a couple who would be nice when no one was looking but one of them, I never figured out which one, was the queen bee who declared The Child "out" and that was it. It never got better and it was one of the reasons we left that school). Anyway, it's The Child's 5th birthday and we invite the other four girls. It was a Madeline theme. I bought an over-priced package from some party catalog, which included all the decorations and favors and a craft that involved gluing a Madeline figure onto a purse. After years of hand-crafting birthday cakes I ordered one from a bakery so there could be a Madeline cartoon on it. The Child was vibrating with excitement. (Or as she called it back then, 'viberating').

Then the little brats showed up. One, who to this day I believe to be a sociopath, refused to participate in anything, repeatedly saying how "dumb" everything was. Although, now that I think of it, when The Child opened presents she mixed it up a little and declared the gifts "boring". Including the gift she'd brought. (No, of course her mother wasn't there witnessing this awful behavior. And sadly, it is so not politically correct to whack someone else's child up side the head. But oh were my palms itching).

Now I grant you that most children do not have highly developed social skills at the tender age of 5. (The Child did, but she's exceptional as you well know). All that was required in this circumstance, however, was to play nicely with others for the longest 2 hours of my life. And it just about killed me to watch my sweet kid, trying bravely to include and engage everyone, to try to instill some spark of excitement or joy into their experience only to be rebuffed by just about all of them.

As I relate all this to you I am getting pissed off all over again. I hate those girls. I hope they all have horrible acne in high school, make bad marriages and get fat.

No. I don't. I hope they will all be very happy. But I do hope that someday they each have ocassion to think back about how they treated my child and feel horribly, sick-to-the-stomach ashamed of how awful they were. Because she never deserved their shabby treatment.

Well, that was theraputic. I am actually looking forward to the party now because this one is being attended by people who genuinely care for my daughter. And I like them all very much for that. Very much indeed.

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