Recently, my favorite Orange County Register Blogger, Eva “Anonymous” Kilgore, posted her account of the spring gala hosted by a fancy Huntington Harbour organization. The theme of this year’s event was western, or cowboy casual. (They apparently have themes. Who knew?) According to Eva, there were bales of straw and at least one cowboy hat in attendance, so I know they went all out. The pate’ was probably from free-range geese. My invitation was lost in the mail, but I recovered from my disappointment. Besides, my social calendar is filled with such events. Here is an example from last Saturday.
My daughter invited me to attend my granddaughter’s third birthday party on Saturday. Granddaughter, Sophia, is a major league cutie and a princess in every respect. Her parents went all out for this event. First, they rented a huge party warehouse. The place was fully equipped with kiddy cars, air-hockey tables, a bounce house and hundreds of smaller toys to amuse the guests and grandparents. Always stylish, I donned a brightly striped Mexican sombrero for the occasion. I was quite a hit with my grandchildren.
“Mommy, grandfather is acting up, again!” One precocious grandchild announced.
At the appointed hour, small guests flooded into the place, bearing gifts and accompanied by their parents. In an instant, the adults were awash in small children. Like ants at a picnic, they were in everything. They filled the bounce house. Air hockey pucks filled the air. Kiddy cars zoomed around the floor at random. It was utter chaos and great fun.
The party lasted two hours. After forty minutes, I began looking for a place to sit down. That is when I discovered all the chairs were 12” tall. Worse, they were alarmingly narrow. I calculated the embarrassment factor of being stuck in one of these tiny seats and decided to tough it out on my own tired feet.
During the lulls, I chatted with other parents and played with a dozen or so children. Of all the groups, the dads had the best take on the party. They decided the real fun would be in opening a bar and grill next door to this place. You know, one with normal size chairs, or at least stools. It would be a kind of refuge for dads in need of relief or sustenance. The possibility of an adjoining facility got the most votes. When we got to pole dancers, the marriage police broke up the conversation. Darn.
In the fullness of time, we dined on princess themed birthday cake and Blue Bell ice cream. Sophia eagerly opened a mound of gifts, each one princessier than the last. I have never seen so much pink in one place in my life. Then, it was time to go home. I enjoyed the party. The children were fun and well behaved in every respect. The adults showed good-natured patience with each other and the scurrying masses. At the appointed hour, I bid the guests and hosts goodbye and staggered to my car, speeding homeward as fast as the laws of physics allowed.
Arriving home, I dived onto my sofa for an extended nap. It is only Wednesday and I am mostly recovered. I wonder if Eva can say the same.
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Well...it sounds like Sophia is quite the
ReplyDeleteprincess. The fried chicken balls would have
been a hit at our party. What exactly ARE
fried chicken balls? Do I want to know? Well,
maybe they wouldn't have gone over so well.
Maybe our party next year to choose the next
grand marshal should have a princess theme.
I can see it now...he'll have a rousing
round of applause as someone puts a sparkly
crown on him. He'll lead the parade in all
his splendor and glory...swishing around
the waterways, doing the Queen's wave to
all those watching ashore. Hmmm...thinking...
E
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ReplyDeleteI think your plan for making the Grand Marshal a princess could only work in California. I am surprised that it hasn't already been tried. Let me know when you try it. I'll put that event on my "Must Attend" list! I am already laughing.
Unlike monkey balls, chicken balls are lumps of white meat battered and delicately fried in deep fat. Thus, they are earier to explain, if not to digest.
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Hey dude, I was like lookin forwierd to reading about someone's size 14 tennies. You said "big fete". But it was like all about some lame kid's party. Gotta go. Surf's up. Later Dude. BR
ReplyDelete...
ReplyDeleteI never could spel. I meant feat, rite?
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