I know that y’all were frightfully concerned about the Jedi Manor, seeing as how we were likening it to a Pi Kappa Alpha house last week, in which the weekly cleaning lady had evacuated the premises to go home to be with her elderly grandmother during a routine appendectomy, leaving the boys alone with their toilets and their sinks and an economy-sized jug of Mr. Clean, which no one seemed to know how to open.
And then said boys threw a bit of a get-together, during which someone smashed a bag of Fritos into beige dust and poured it all over the floor, while everyone else left their Solo cups scattered on every level (and semi-level) surface in the house.
And also? Well, someone’s little brother must’ve been around, because there was a considerable amount of loose Lego bricks thrown hither and yon, and also a pile of sticks decorated with markings made by a pocket knife that was tall enough to keep a beaver in business for a week.
We were there, people, at least in spirit, while our house began to look more and more like a fraternity house on a Saturday morning.
…things have been restored, because our family of three rolled up our sleeves yesterday and we dug in. We dug in hard enough that I even managed to hit myself in the forehead with the vacuum cleaner, and now I’m sporting both a lump AND a bruise, which is going to eliminate me entirely from the next beauty pageant, unless I can work some miracles with the Clinique foundation and concealer stick before the talent competition gets underway.
But yes. All of those words to say, “People! Our house is CLEAN NOW!” And because of it, I feel as though my sanity has been restored.
And seeing as how this was the weekend of multiple parties involving small boys, my sanity was indeed in question at a couple of points.
On Friday afternoon, Kellen invited the gang to his house, because TODAY is his birthday, and his mama felt that a little celebration was in order.
And by a little celebration, Kellen’s mama decided that twenty children under the age of eleven was a good number to have drop in for cupcakes and crafts. I wasn’t there for the first half of the party, but I know that the second half was going so smoothly, Kellen’s mom cracked open the wine and filled glasses for the parents. Never underestimate the power of a good grape juice to keep you from hearing all of the NOISE.
The kids made clay skulls, because the majority of the guests were boys, and that’s what boys like to make. Skulls. Bones. Snakes. Sharks. Anything that screams the words POISONOUS or DANGEROUS or DISGUSTING or MAMA DOESN’T APPROVE is what a boy will turn a lump of clay into.
Kellen’s mother pulled out all the stops and brought out tray after tray of little beads and microscopic crafting pieces, and the boys (and a couple of girls, too) went to town.
And then there were HEALTHY pumpkin-laced cupcakes, which were disguised as Birthday Party Food Goods beneath a thick layer of cream cheese frosting. No one had any idea that they were eating VITAMINS and NUTRIENTS. Naturally, the boys ate them with their GENTLEMANLY MANNERS and their NAPKINS.
Where boys are concerned, shoving a whole cupcake into a mouth and wiping the residual frosting on the hem of the T-shirt is nothing to even think twice about doing.
There were also COSTUMES at this party, because this party turned into a Boys-Against-the-Girls War, where prisoners were taken and shots were fired. Thankfully, all fired shots were done with squirt guns and Nerf guns, as Enzo so clearly demonstrates for the concerned Department of Family Services.
There was also some Hanging Out Upon the Rooftops, but the Department of Family Services should be aware of the fact that the roof’s pitch is not alarming, and the children were only above the hard deck for a few minutes. Plus, firing a weapon at the enemy from a lofty advantage usually results in a tremendous victory, even though the other team will emphatically shout, “CHEAT!”
We’re wrapping things up here for the evening, people, and planning an early bedtime, so the rest of our weekend will have to be filled in later. We’ve got teeth to brush and stories to read now.
Happy Sunday night.