All of the dads were very friendly and I was looking forward to the next poker night, which happened to be a recent Friday night. But I could not attend because -- and I'd like to think the guys poured one out for me in between hands -- I had to help set up for my daughter's birthday party at our house the following day.
(Lawn update: The sun has been making rare appearances after rains of biblical proportions and I've been able to tame most of my grass, save for the swamp that is slowly forming in one part of my yard. One Sunday afternoon after mowing, I was on our deck, drinking a beer, grilling and listening to '90s Pop Radio on Pandora; I reached Peak Dad when Hootie and the Blowfish came on.)
My daughter's party was my first encounter with the Birthday-Industrial Complex. It was a far cry from my birthdays growing up. We played Kick the Can, Put the Can on Your Head and Throw the Can. Then we all fought over one small cupcake and got Tetanus shots instead of a goody bag.
We had a party at our daughter's play place when she turned 2, but at that age all of the kids are like diaper-wearing sheep. We could have put all of the wrapping paper from her gifts on the floor in front of them and they would have been content. Now, as the kids turn 3, they need to be corralled and entertained at the same time.
That's why, for 3rd birthdays, many of her friends are having parties at a play place that I can best describe as Chuck-E-Cheese's on steroids relocated to Burning Man. The walls are white, the pop music is loud and the kids' screams of (mostly) delight are louder. I would gladly chip in to help this place secure a liquor license.
What stunned me, though, was the cost. It might be cheaper to go to Burning Man than have a party at this place. That's why we decided to have a more low-key house party, which also was a month before my daughter's actual birthday because we are expecting a second child any day and OH MY GOD A NEWBORN IN THE HOUSE AGAIN WHAT WERE WE THINKING?!?!
Our first task was having our daughter pick at theme. She chose "Frozen," a movie she loves despite only watching the first 20 minutes approximately 750 times. Then my wife sprung into action, figuring out "Frozen"-themed food (pretzel sticks were "Olaf's Arms,") activities (wand-making, anyone?) and decorations.
The biggest discussion we had, however, was how much pizza to order. We figured about two pieces per kid, but what about the adults? Would they eat, since the party was over lunch? Or would they just finish what their kids left behind? We assumed adults would eat, which is why, naturally, we had about five whole pizzas left at the end of the party.
This seems to be a problem at most kids' parties, with the hosts at first cheerily asking the adults to help themselves to some pizza but then desperately pleading with them to have a slice. So, I'd hereby like to propose a Party Pizza Rule: The number of slices to be ordered for a child's birthday party is the number of kids coming to the party times three. This gives the kids lunch and the parents a little something to nosh on without forcing pizza on anyone. Or, the kid eats all of the pizza and, combined with the cake, lapses into a food coma in the afternoon. Everyone wins!
Despite the extra pizza (which we tried to give away at the end of the party like an adult goody bag) and the bad weather (that pesky rain forced the festivities mostly indoors), everyone had a good time and there was only a meltdown or two -- but then I got a cup of "Elsa's Punch" and was fine.
The best part of a kids party, however, is no one lingers. The party officially ended at 1 p.m. and by 1:03 p.m., it was only our family members left in the house. Our daughter's party did not break the bank nor my wife and me and, most importantly, our daughter had fun. The smiles on her face make everything worth it.
Now, please, take a piece of pizza before you go.
