Birthday Party Mission Accomplished!

Although the turnout was less than expected—blame the first triple-digit heat day of the year on Christmas Island and the fact that we were having a party in the park because our house is a shambles of empty walls and moving boxes—the major invitees all attended and the day was saved!

Of chief importance was the appearance of the Birthday Boy’s old daycare pal Kelly. When she showed up, I watching The Boy’s face, and it lit up like a kid catching Santa sneaking out of the chimney on Christmas Eve. The rest of the day was Kelly, cake and presents for The Boy. Everything and everybody else was just a distraction.

The Last Boy Scout showed up with his whole family, bless their hearts. One of his daughters was the picture of stoic, stiff-upper-lipped misery (which I remember so well from my own childhood—is there anything more boring than a party where you don’t know anyone there’s no one there your age?) and his wife is physically allergic to our sweltering little hippie town; the city council ought to establish patchouli-free zones here like rest stops on the freeway. In this economy, we can’t even afford to turn away the non-hippie tourist dollar!

But they were here and we were all drinking Pepsi products, so I was happy.

And The Missus’ pal The Local Celebrity showed up with his two boys, so she was happy, too.

At the end there were presents and relieved attendees beating feet for the comfort of their air-conditioned familymobiles. Clean-up went by in no time and we made it home before I stroked out from the heat, with a playdate for next weekend with Kelly already in hand.

18 days to go…