I swore I wasn’t going to do it. But this year, after much begging, I relented and am allowing my son to have a birthday party. A party that he can invite his friends to. A party with children I barely recognize from his daycare, who have parents I may or may not have ever met. He is going to be 5.
It’s a big step for me; this whole party business with strangers coming to our home. That is why they are only invited for 2 hours and will be confined to the back yard (unless they need to use the bathroom and refuse to use the pee chicken in the corner behind the play structure).
I’ve gone all out. In my world that means I have rented a bouncy castle for $50. I will also go pick up an ice cream cake from Dairy Queen, if my son ever decides what kind of birthday party he wants. So far we’ve gone from Spiderman to Batman to spider to Barney to frisbee in just the past week. In reality, he’ll get whatever birthday cake is cheap and in stock when I have time to pick it up.
Based on some of the other birthday parties my son has attended, I gather I’m supposed to put together a crap bag… or is it a goodie bag… to thank the kids who have given up their precious free time in order to attend his birthday party, eat his cake, and be entertained by the bouncy castle which I have also paid for.
I am doing this because I love my son, and also because I don’t want to have to deal with his whining about not getting a party when all of his friends had them. Happy 5th kiddo!