Happy Friday The 13th Birthday To Cabbage Patch!!

Today is the actual birthday of my youngest offspring. Last Saturday we had her oh so fun birthday party, at a local park. As the day approached, I was mildly worried about the weather as it had been raining for like a month straight or something insane like that in a place where even GETTING rain in the month of July is such a rare occurrence that most people would have a party for that reason alone. But not this year, for some reason – global warming/depleted ozone/nuclear fall out/Commies/apocalyptic storm/celestial grudge/Republicans in office – the area has been getting torrential amounts of rain and as of a week ago today, we hadn’t had a dry day in a while. Not that it mattered; I was still going to have the party at the park. I had a large pavilion reserved, games for kids to play and a fucking scary huge Dora The Explorer piñata chocked full of crap! We were having that party! (Oh yeah, I also did not have a back up plan.)

Saturday arrived with no rain! About 10 am, I realized that this was the first absolutely perfect rain free day we’d had in a while and that we better get our asses in gear and to the park before other people realized it and decided to have a picnic at the pavilion I reserved. I would not hesitate to put the throw down on someone – I had a fucking scary huge Dora The Explorer and I would not be denied my pavilion!

We arrived about 11 am and started setting up amid a chorus of whiny voices claiming to be bored and wanting to go to the splash pad RIGHT THEN. Set up was pretty quick, even with K having to go back home to get the bag of stuff we forgot. With 10 minutes before guests were to arrive the ever so bored Tiny Terrorists took to sitting RIGHT IN FRONT of the cake and peeking into the box.

Okay, I know… Boring you! I’m boring myself. Let me cut to the interesting parts…

Water Balloons!

This actually only took place between the Tiny Terrorist and their cousin as no one else had shown up yet. I made the game interesting (for me) by making the rule that the Little People could not throw the water balloons at any grown up. The dads made their own rule by yelling to not throw them near the grill. Whatever, I had fun pelting the Little People.

Pin The Tail On The Donkey

A perfect game for the 8 and under crowd and great for a group of 6 of them. Shortly before people arrived, I realized I had forgotten the PRIZES for the game! My only hope was that none of them had actually PLAYED the game and KNEW about that part. And as luck would have it – they hadn’t! I was quite amused when I put the blindfold on each one and they said “Hey! I can’t see!” I kept repeating “You aren’t supposed to!” It was quite amusing to watch them – they played the game three times before I got bored and shoved them off towards other things.

Kill Dora!

Anticipating that the overstuffed Dora piñata would explode in a shower of candy and plastic trinkets early on, I let Cabbage Patch be the first to smack Dora. My anticipations were quite wrong. Despite the fact that Dora was merely taped with Scotch tape, she held on for 2 and a half rounds of beatings. Moreover, to be quite honest it looked more like a lynching than anything else… Dora strung up in a tree being beaten with a stick for other people’s amusement… sick really… but I digress. When she did finally succumb to the torture and give up her sugary booty, it was hilarious to watch the kids – who had to actually be TOLD to PICK UP the candy!

CAKE!

Everybody loves cake!

Between each of these events, my oldest was afflicted with a severe whining flu to which I had to tell her that if she didn’t stop the whining that the rabid squirrels in the park would come running out of the trees and eat her brain. She didn’t believe me.

Sadly, I did not stay to see the kids play on the splash pad as I left the party abruptly after serving cake so as to not make the party memorable in a really BAD way. I apologize to everyone at the party for my seemingly rude behavior but I felt horrible. Thank you all who brought her gifts despite the invite clearly saying NO PRESENTS. We’ll be getting out Thank You cards soon.

Anyway… I must force my children to get dressed now that they are clean. Have a delightful Friday the 13th!

Helping Bring A Touch Of Hate To Every Day

My offspring hate me from time to time every day. It’s healthy for them. It makes them appreciate the HAPPY times even more. I do what I can since I’m not raising my children in abject poverty and neglect. Just extreme sarcasm with a touch of smart-assness. Lately my offspring have been developing their own sarcasm and I can not tell you the intense pride I feel… well when it’s not directed at ME, because when it is directed at me then I just get the urge to ground them until they are 30 or so. My youngest progeny just this morning replied my request for help making breakfast with a curt “I’m not your personal chef!” My urge to shove her into the oven was quickly over rode by admiration as I’ve said that exact line or a variation to her just about every day for the past few years. The elder of the progeny has developed the ability to roll her eyes. Usually at me. Which just pisses me off, so I guess she’s succeeded in mission. Though I often wonder if her mission is to set a record for the child who has spent the most time standing in the corner. Cabbage Patch is still working on her eye rolling technique, smartly she has chosen to practice on her sister and not in response to me. I’m very proud of both of them as I hadn’t developed these talents until I was at least 9.

Damn Menopausal Computer

Fucking computer of mine. It’s still having heat issues. K left recently to go procure my computer a new fan as I have yet to locate the Estrogen program for the computer. And just like a tempermental computer, it’s working FINE since he walked out the door. I hate this computer some days. (K brought home a brand fan with a brand new SUPER screwdriver and I installed it all by myself! The fan, not the screwdriver… I used the screwdriver to install the fan silly!)

72 Months Old!

That’s right, my youngest Tiny Terrorist turns 72 months on the 13th! Woohoo! What? Did you have to get a calculator to figure out that she would be 6?!?!?!?! Well so did I… actually I had to use the calculator to figure out the month part, but WHATEVER! Back to me and my HATE. I absolutely HATE it when people refer to their child’s age in months after they are about a year and a half to 2 years old. Come on people! If your kid can actually tell someone they are 2 or 3 then stop looking like an obsessive compulsive totally neurotic child absorbed nitwit and stop with the month thing. Nobody but you gives a fuck how old your child is to the EXACT month. Next thing you’ll say is that you keep track of exactly how many times your kid takes a shit during the day! (please, don’t tell me if you do… I don’t need to know about your sick fetishes.)

(*Dude! I totally suck! I just hit my kid in the head with the telephone. It was an ACCIDENT! Stop looking at me like that!)

Gag Me!

Nothing is more disgusting than dog barf! Yes, dog barf trumps even cat vomit for grossness. Yesterday right after a nap on the sofa Coco decided to hurl on a sock on the floor. It was so vile I did the only thing I could do. Which was yell for K to come clean up the dog barf. No really, it was that bad – worse than any of the times my progeny has spewed on me. Then I told him to just throw away the sock because I couldn’t imagine ever being able to wear it again even if it was washed and bleached a few dozen times (well that and it wouldn’t fit me anyway – not my sock!).

Okay, that’s enough hate for one day. I’ll be back soon with the recap of Cabbage Patch’s birthday and all the toys that give me the urge to disembowel the person who purchased them for my offspring. I know! You can’t wait!!!