This past weekend, I took L (5) to one of his kindergarten classmate's birthday party. This was L's first kid birthday party so he was beyond pumped.
Lucky him, his older brother, J (7) got to tag along too.
Since it is close to Halloween, it was a costume party. L went as Iron Man (Mach 3) and J went as a ninja.
I feel I should tell you that I don't even know what "Mach 3" is but apparently Iron Man has several different suits. My boys know that this suit is the Mach 3. How they know, I have no idea as they have never seen the Iron Man movie. But, okay, sure. It's the Mach 3.
When we arrived at the party, the kid's mom was so gracious and welcoming. She ushered us outside where the bounce houses were set-up.
I don't know about you but for my boys, it really doesn't get any better than bounce houses.
Except for maybe Minecraft. Or Pokemon Go. Or Wii U.
Bounce Houses = Awesomesauce
I quickly positioned myself on the deck to have the best view of the backyard and made myself comfortable.
In between keeping an eye on my kids, I made polite conversation with the parents.
It was a mildly controlled chaos.
14 boys. 4 girls. 2 bounce houses, 1 pinata stuffed with candy.
This party was ON.
Since it is middle of October in the south(ish), of course, it would be 80 degrees. L quickly tired of his Iron Man suit, I helped him peel it off his sweaty little body so he could go play.
Minutes later, J comes up with his socks. Followed by L and his socks.
I'm holding all of the kids stuff in one hand and my lemonade in the other. And I'm doing a fine job, I might add.
Wanting in on more action, I make my way down the steps to the yard.
Standing there watching the kids, a tiny little Spiderman comes up to me.
He thrusts out his hand to me, "Hold this." He then gives me three little trucks.
Where'd you come from?
"Okay," I answer and manage to shove them into my delicately balanced pile of kid stuff.
He runs off.
I strike up a conversation with one of the other moms.
Little Spiderman returns. "I want a gun," he tells me, pointing to my older kid's Nerf gun.
"There are some upstairs in the living room. A whole bunch of them," I answer, pointing up the stairs for added emphasis.
"I want a gun." he repeats, slowly this time in case I didn't get it the first time.
Who is this kid?!
Magically, my oldest son, J, appears and says, "I can show you where the guns are. Come with me."
"Thanks, sweetie," I say.
A few minutes later, a tub is brought outside full of water and of apples.
"Bobbing for apples!" the host mom yells.
Looking over at the ginormous tub, my eye starts to twitch.
Bobbing for apples. With kindergartners.
Watching all of those little faces dip into the water, starts to give me the heebie jeebies.
Please don't let my kids want to dive into that cess pool of bacteria. Please, oh please.
Five minutes later, "Mom," J asks, "can I bob for apples?"
To which I reply, "No,sweetie. We're not going to be doing that. Oh look! cupcakes!"
I have never been so glad to see cupcakes in my life. Perfect timing.
After we eat the cupcakes, the boys new costumes are covered in frosting, their foreheads plastered in sweat so I declare the party a success.
Time to head out.
I turn around and see the little Spiderman.
Sticking out his hand that holds the Nerf gun, he demands, "Here, hold my gun."
Hold up, Spidey. I'm on to you.
Pointing to the small table next to me, I respond, "Look! Here is the picnic table. You can set your gun down over here."
He glares at me, stalks over to a lady about 6 feet away and says, "Mommy, hold my gun."
Insert picture of sucker here.
Well played, Spidey. Well played.
As we head out, the host mom is so sweet and thanks us for coming.
I make sure to make mental notes about my kids' future birthday parties.
Have plenty of Nerf guns. And bounce houses. And cupcakes.
Definitely NO apple bobbing.