10:04 a.m.
Annie tugs at my sleeve to ask me why Hello Kitty’s head is squishy. I look up and realize that the giant Hello Kitty Balloon that I picked up from the party store moments before party—the one I paid $9.00 for—is already deflating. I begin crafting an answer, but she has already bounded past me to see what her brother and his big-kid friends are doing.
10:15 a.m.
Just as the party gets rolling, my husband reluctantly informs me that the video camera battery is dead. I unleash an irrational fury on him—irrational since I was the one who packed the camera bag. How could you not have checked it? Why do I have to do everything? I mean, we’re making memories here, darnit! He tolerates my lashing and walks away with a shrug, leaving me to seethe like a wild animal.
10:24 a.m.
The party is in full swing. Is everyone having fun? I scan the room—Annie is covered in pink paint, applying sparkles to a tiny airplane. Spencer is running around with his big-kid friends and being nice to his sister. The location I picked seems to be a hit with the parents. I glow with pride ... as if I did anything but pay a deposit and show up! No matter, I get valuable points for being a Hip Mom. So far, so good ...
10:45 a.m.
From across the room, I see Annie swipe her nose with her shirtsleeve. It was only four days ago that she had strep throat. She missed the entire week of school before her birthday party. I’m sure there’s a mom or two in here checking her nose for green boogers, questioning her contagiousness. I stealthily scoot past some kids painting birdhouses and give it a blow and wipe her sleeve of evidence.
11:02 a.m.
My dad walks by with a camera and offers to take a picture of my husband and me. Telling him my cheeks already ache from smiling seems out of the question, so I hug my man (who I have since apologized to for my earlier psychotic outbreak), stick out my neck to avoid double-chin, and—click! I thank him, hoping he was gracious enough not to include my thighs in the shot.
