Listening to: The fine “Island” mix my mystery mixer made me
Not me, mofo (as I said last post), no amount of eager beaver would have drawn me out of my sanctuary this weekend. No, the revelry was reserved - bad word, it was far from reserved - limited to the wee-est of my brood, Marni's Grand Celebration today, Zeke to a classmate's party yesterday. Mad Irish children raving in the shadow of St. Patrick.
When I picked Zeke up from X's mom (who was watching the kids while X marched against the war), the little guy was furious, crying: he didn't want to go. All week he'd talked about the party and there he was, throwing a fit - who knows what goes through the mind of a three-year old boy? My own guess was that he was tired and hadn't had his nap (he fell fast asleep two minutes into the trip) but it was a fight to the finish as I fastened him into his car seat, tried to convince him that he'd have fun ("The party is at McDonald's fergodsake!") and coerce him ("We've are ess vee peed all over this thing, Mister, we're not going to cancel!").
Of course, as soon as we arrived and he shook the sleep off, he was in his stocking feet and chasing playmates through the gigantic hamster cage called McDonald's Playland. Fortunately, I didn't have to crawl inside the damn thing to rescue Zeke from some scary height or dark corner; familiar with that madness, I brought along the industrial-sized antibacterial dispenser with spray-nozzle.
Marni's affair was a bit cleaner but far from less subdued. Unfortunately, I had to work and so I missed the merriment but if the ruins of what was my mom's basement is any indication, a troop of little girls has the same destructive power as several kilotons of military-grade explosives.
When I picked the kids up (sans Lilly who stayed with X due to a stomach bug), Marni was hugging her Tickle & Giggle Curious George, daddy's birthday gift to her. When I was shopping for it, I was wary that perhaps it was too young for her but she insisted that was what wanted. It's depressing that I couldn't be there to see her expression when she opened up the present and saw what she got but I was glad she held it so tight on the ride home. Sure she's 5 but oh, still so much a baby.
When we arrived back at X's, poor little Lilly was still on the couch, less pale but obviously not happy her bug had prevented her from attending. Worse, I could see she was envious of Curious George. My heart broke for her.
And then my heart was set afire as I witnessed one of the nicest sweetest things I've ever seen my children do. Marni let her sick sister sleep with her present. "Here you go, Lilly, you can sleep with him tonight!"
It was a little difficult driving home through the snow with tears in my eyes.