I Think The Force Was With Me

A little birthday party etiquette in case you're confused:

1. The RSVP function on a party invitation is meant to be used BEFORE the party and by BEFORE the party, I mean not fifteen minutes before.

2. If you are going to RSVP, please do it AFTER 7:00 a.m.

3. RSVPing by leaving a message during the party doesn't count.

Seriously. I think I am going to offer seminars on the proper way to handle children's social functions. What happened to plain old common sense?

But other than that, the party was swell.

Most of the kids from Jacob's kindergarten class last year were there. No one, aside from the half-day three, from his current first grade class was there. I wasn't really surprised about that, but I was still a bit pissed off about it. In the end, though, I was glad they didn't come because it was like a little kindergarten reunion and no one had to pretend to like anyone. Plus, the snooty Mamas wouldn't have known what to do with all those masks I printed out....



or the huge bouncy slide....



Who remembers at the beginning of the year when I said I didn't like Jacob's teacher? I take it all back. Jacob's teacher came to his party. He invited her, she showed up, he was thrilled, and we were impressed. Never in my life did any of my teachers go to any of my birthday parties. Never in my teacher life did I ever attend a student's party. That lady is awesome. She should be paid more.

Of course, since I was the one hosting the party, you know it didn't go completely as planned.

When we go to the park two hours prior to the party, the pavillion I had rented, the pavillion I paid money for, was being occupied by a huge group of people with matching shirts, something about The Lowell Family Reunion 2008. No tables, no grill, no parking spaces. When I casually mentioned to one of the mean ass nice ladies that we were having a party there later that day, she laughed at me and hoisted her huge ass on top of the table I was trying to cover. Oh. Dear. Gawd. My little white receipt indicating payment and reservation meant nothing to her. Crap, crap, crappity, crap, crap. Rules, schmules, she paid taxes, in Louisiana according to her license plate, but still, she paid taxes she had every right to congregate at that public park. She easily outweighed me by 200 pounds, there was no way I could fight her for that shelter. I was about to cry, yes really, when Joe the park attendent pulled his little green golf cart right up and shooed everyone of those Lowells away from our party like a herd of cattle. He even made them move their cars. I heart Joe the Park Guy. He also should be paid more.

Dear Lowells,
Next year reserve your party spot before printing location specific tee shirts. And maybe get your own bouncy slide too.



Of course, it wouldn't be a party without cake am I right?

Look at those sweet kids just waiting for a slice of tasty, sugary goodness. Aren't they cute?

Too damn bad Jacob's Mama forgot to bring forks. Or spoons. Or even knives for goodness sake. Somehow I think snooty Mamas would have been appalled at the sight of fifteen little piggies eating their cake trough-like. Good thing they didn't show up, huh?

But aside from that, it was a good day. Jacob was happy, I only had five goody bags left over, we'll only be eating hot dogs for a half a week, and Mommy didn't get beat up. Score.



That face, Man what I go through for that face.