A Whole Lot o’ Presents
Wow, it’s Thursday already and I’m still exhausted from partying like a two-year-old on Sunday. Er, I mean, from throwing a two-year-old a party. There were balloons, cake, pizza and wings, party hats, presents and beer, you know, all the stuff a toddler loves. I’m kidding… the boy doesn’t like wings.
My wife and I decided to give the presents from our daughter, dog and us to the toddler of honor before the party started. The boy shredded the first gift’s car-adorned wrapping paper faster than I could type this sentence, but the other forty-two took forever. My little girl did her best Daddy impression by acting very impatient during this tedious task. I frowned at her, but could feel her pain.
The first guests arrived early, you know, right at the time listed on the invitation, and the birthday boy was still napping. I think they did it on purpose because we usually do the same thing if we actually get out of the house without someone having to go potty or one of the kids needing something.
The boy joined the party a few minutes later as more and more and more people walked through the door bearing gifts. At this point I wore a few hats: drink server; coat check
girl boy; and pizza delivery guy. The latter I reluctantly, yeah right, agreed to do because it would take me away from the party for about ten minutes. My F.I.L. joined me on the ride and did all the heavy lifting while I opened the doors and my wallet when necessary.
The delicious greasy food went over big because pizza and wings is just another food group in Western New York. We also had a garden salad for those guests who actually like to eat healthy and it surprisingly was devoured, also.
The gift opening ceremony was next because we wanted the TUMS® to have time to work before we had cake and ice cream. I mentioned in a previous post how I abhor children’s gift openings (see Camping: Two kids, a wife and a whole lot of bullfrogs) unless they’re my own kids, so I rudely took it upon myself to buzz through this ritual without reading cards or displaying clothes to the masses who were kind enough to purchase said cards and clothes. I ridiculously thought that I was doing everyone a favor by sparing them from what I perceived to be a boring waste of time. The unwrapping flew by faster than the stenographer could record who bought what. Luckily my M.I.L. decided to show off all the clothes to the feminine persuasions in the crowd, because they enjoyed it, believe it or not. As for the birthday boy, he was happy playing with whatever new toy we put in front of him whether it was one of the many car related items, his hungry lawnmower or his Bob the Builder tool set. Surprisingly, no one directed any negative comments toward me that I know of about my callous act of ignorance. Maybe they kept their distance because the party began to get to me a little and I started to resemble Jack Nicholson in The Shining.
The cake and ice cream went over very well except that our two-year-old refused to blow out the candle and I couldn’t muster enough wind to do the job which is out of character for me I think because I’m frequently told that I’m full of hot air. My wife eventually extinguished the big two and the servings began.
The guests eventually left and we surveyed the damage. The house actually didn’t look too bad, especially because my mother and M.I.L. cleaned up pretty good. I knew they were invited for a reason.
There were new toys everywhere and the exhausted kids were ecstatic. I was elated, too, because you can’t beat having a bunch of people at your house happily spoiling your child with gifts and good wishes all the while putting up with me.