This is nothing but a rambling recap

Sometime around the beginning of June I asked Caroline how she’d like to celebrate her sixth birthday. I assumed we’d do another pool party because that’s the fate assigned to anyone born in August in Texas, but she insisted that she had no interest in a party at the pool. Truthfully, I couldn’t blame her because how is that any different from what we do practically every day except with cupcakes instead of ice cream sandwiches?

She said she wanted to have a slumber party and I promptly began congratulating myself on the prospect of putting together the EASIEST birthday party ever. All those suckers paying for a big party at Pump It Up complete with communicable diseases and the possibility that you might have to (hypothetically) climb to the top of the bouncy slide while wearing a skirt to retrieve your child and I was going to get away with taking four girls to the movies and letting them sleep in sleeping bags on my living room floor? How hard can that be?

And now as I sit here feeling a level of exhaustion that I didn’t think existed outside of being forced to watch a marathon of ShamWow! commercials, I realize that those suckers who pay to have a party at Pump It Up have the advantage of being able to send everyone home after two hours. It doesn’t matter to them one way or the other if those kids stay up until 2:00 a.m. because their parents picked them up hours ago.

So here I sit. Fairly incoherent from the tiredness and in pain due to the fact that I thought it was a good idea to use a sharp knife to open up a frozen pizza wrapper last night. P is constantly reminding me of the hazards contained in my unorthodox methods of opening packages, but I just nod and then keep sawing away with whatever sharp utensil happens to be closest. Ninety-seven percent of the time it works out beautifully, but last night in a frenzy of helping a bunch of girls decorate white pillowcases with fabric paint and glitter and simultaneously trying to open up a box of frozen nutrition for any of the girls who didn’t want to eat Caroline’s requested birthday dinner of her daddy’s fried fish, I sliced the pointer finger of my right hand which is making it a little bit painful to type right now. I guess there is no workman’s comp for people who write on the internet or I’d check out my options for short-term disability.

The most important thing is that Caroline had a great sixth birthday. I mean, what little girl doesn’t dream of getting her very own pink .22?

(Before anyone leaves me a comment about it, let me assure you that it will remain locked in a safe that even I can’t get into and is for ranch use only.)

She also received some Bendaroos which have to be the most clever marketing scheme ever in the history of mankind because it’s just some string covered in some sort of bendy wax. Why not just pick up a pack of pipe cleaners and call it a day?

Mimi and Bops bought her an American Girl doll. It’s one of the Just Like Me dolls so it doesn’t come with a name and bio like all the other American Girl dolls, which are incidentally made in China. Caroline is wavering between naming her Dorothy or Glory. I think we all know I’m hoping she goes with Glory so I can amuse myself by saying “Oh Glory, I can’t believe you’re made in China and your clothing is more expensive than mine.”

I don’t even know if I’m making any sense at this point. Have I mentioned I’m exhausted and that I may have to get my finger amputated? Oh, and that I tried to use that new spray Neosporin on it to prevent the gangrene from setting in and sprayed myself right in the eye around midnight during the slumber party at which point things were beginning to head south due to an epidemic of tiredness denial?

Finally, after three hours of serving as a manicure/pedicure technician to four of the most indecisive little girls on the planet (Oh! I wanted blue polish like her! Can we take off all this pink and make it rainbow instead? Can you hurry up please?) I finally cracked and told them it was TIME. TO. GO. TO. BED.

Then they stayed up another hour and a half giggling and laughing which in all honesty made me smile more than a little bit because it brought back memories of how fun it used to be to stay up way too late surrounded by your best friends, some microwave popcorn, and a few good Barbie movies.

Of course these days Ma-Maw has to get her beauty rest.

Glory, I am tired.