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Friday, March 1, 2013

A Tale of Two Weekends

If I were a good father, I would do this expansive post on Caroline's first birthday party.  Because it was awesome.  Awesome.  I say that because I had a great time.  Now, I have no clue whether anyone else did or not, but I had a blast.  That's apparently my measuring stick on kids' birthday parties.

And if I were a good father, I would post the video of Caroline systematically demolishing a pretty little orange - sorry - (allegedly) pink cake.  She looked at it, then she looked at the twenty or thirty some odd people staring at her, and she took her right hand and coolly dug a clod of icing right out and stuck it in her mouth.

So no video.  It's still in the digital guts of the camera at home.

Jack, for those of you that still remember 2009, had no idea whatsoever what to do with the big frosted thing in front of him.  He sort of pawed at it and ended up taking the top off of the giant blue cupcake.  Not Caroline.  Nope, Little Ponies can put a whoopin' on some cake.  Then her Uncle Blake decided that spooning an entire little cup of chocolate Blue Bell into her mouth would be a super way to wash down all that frosting.  More on that later.

Waaaaaay more people showed up than we expected, and we were actually really glad.  It was fun.  Thankfully, weather that was supposed to be pretty gnarly instead was very, very good.  Like San Diego good.  Apart from the darn pollen choking us, it was perfect.  You take what you can get in Houstonistan.  Anyway, we had my family, her family, church family, former church family, and a former church family that flew in from Perth, Australia.  My Favorite Nigerians weren't really in the States just for Caroline's birthday party, but we're spreading it around as gospel truth, anyway.

The theme - I'm told you have to have a theme at these sort of things - was hot air balloons.  You'll recall that The Curl's room is decorated with them.  So Chinese lanterns with little baskets tied to them are still hanging all around my house this very minute.  That'll probably be the case in 6 months.  'Cause hey, they're festive, man.  There was also this huge wicker basket that had balloons tied to it.  It was for taking pictures, but it ended up being a really classy looking playpen, truth be told.

We drank lemonade, ate hot dogs, and cake, and many, many little cups of Blue Bell, and then wished all the wellwishers well.  We sat in our dining room eating garish colored junk food and listening to Gringo Honeymoon.  There's no topping that.

However.  There's always a however.  Caroline decided that the day was so awesome that it probably shouldn't end, and stayed up all night screaming.  About four o'clock, I pick my head up from my pillow only to hear this deep, trademark, "HEY."  Oh, boy.  I stuck it out for about a half hour, but eventually realized that every time I moved I got another HEY.  I ended up in a sleeping bag on my own living room floor with a spectacular chest cold.  It felt like I had inhaled a chinchilla.

Listen, when you're the dude that pays the mortgage, sleeping on the floor is considered poor form.  But then again, I didn't have it near as bad as Majesty.  She had to snuggle with that little maniac.

And Caroline is now (officially) one year old.  Wow.  A phrase I've been using a whole lot lately:
"This is freakin' me out, man."
 

4 comments:

Bebe said...

A great time was had by all!!

Roxanne said...

Love that she knows what to do with a cake when a (so called) "responsible adult" plunks it down in front of her. . .and I LOVE Jack's pink tie. Perfection.

El Comodoro said...

Notice the number of knots in that cravat.

Sparkz said...

Awww how fun.