Who’ll second the motion?

What’s wrong with me? Every year I say to myself and anyone who’ll listen, “ENOUGH! I’m not doing this to myself again next year.”  Kid’s parties have gotten WAY out of control. The last 3 years I’ve tried to rock it old school and scale it way back. But I fail miserably. Half way through the planning of “Pin the tail on the donkey; duck, duck, goose; cake and goodbye!” I start to feel the peer pressure. The awful Mom’s-one-upping-each-other pressure. The last party my boys attended had pony rides, archery and a Bibbity Bobbity Boutique, Princess makeover station! I can’t compete with that.

So this year, Nate wanted a Superhero-themed party. So off I went into pinterest land. Capes. I would make everyone a superhero cape! I pictured my son and his friends, frolicking in the backyard with homemade capes trailing in slow-motion behind them. Their squeals of laughter warming my heart and sending a message to all the other Moms…Less is more!!

(cue the needle scratching off the record)

I spent 2 weeks making superhero capes. Why? Because if you’re going to make them to match your fantasy, they have to be silky, flowing and reversible. Oh, did I mention I don’t know how to sew? My fantasy forgot about that little detail. There was that AND Mark took a job at Busch Gardens Art Directing their HallowScream so that means he’s out-of-town all week-long. I put the boys to bed and worked in my makeshift cape factory until the wee hours of the morning. We invited more kids than we could handle, figuring about half would RSVP “Yes”. And of course…ALL of them RSVPd “Yes”! I was going to have to make 17 capes. Holy sweatshop, Batman!

Flash forward to the day of the party. Capes made and hanging in the Bat closet waiting to be claimed. Check. Villain helium balloons tied to the fence waiting for superheroes to blast them with water guns. Check. Lots of food  and cold drinks to keep the superheroes’ parents happy. Check.

5 minutes before the guests arrive: Cue the thunderstorm. Cut to: balloons being blown off fence; tent blowing over and me pressing my face against the window screaming, “NOOOOOOOO!!!!”

(ding-dong) “Wow! It’s really pouring out there! Happy Birthday, Nate!”

First boy to arrive:

“Hey, come on into the batcave…we have a special superhero cape just for you!”

“Uh…I’m not going to wear that.”

Cut to: Me stabbing myself in the heart with my imaginary knife. Then going after him with it when he says, “Aren’t you going to give me something to drink, I’m thirsty!”

17 kids with capes trying to “fly” off my couch. 17 kids in my sons’ bedrooms ripping through their closets and toy chests. 17 kids commandeered  my house as I lay on the floor in a fetal ball.

Next year: Chuck E. Cheese and a fist full of tokens.

 

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