Bride of Chuck-E
Elise’s 5th birthday is coming up next month, and I’ve been in a bit of denial. Not in denial that my first-born is turning 5, but denial that there may be a birthday party I’d need to do something about.
You know, put something together or something.
The problem is, I spent her last 2 birthdays planning elaborate home birthday parties—with THEMES—and going all out birthday insanity style. For instance, last year I made invitations that looked like real jungle safari passports, complete with small photo of the invited friend. We had safari hats, play binoculars and a hunt for hidden animal figurines in the backyard. Clearly, I was sick in the head and bitten by some rabid animal.
This year, my creative party-planning brain seems to be AWOL. (Apparently, this part of the brain also took the Motivation to Clean and Serenity Now parts of the brain along with it.)
I got nothing. Nothing left.
Then, Elise announced one day this week, “Mommy. It’s almost my birthday and I REALLY want to have my birthday at “Chuck E Cheese.” PLEASE?!?!?”
I froze. My first reaction was sheer panic/horror. But then, I wondered if this might just be my ticket to freedom.
While normally, I wouldn’t wish a Chuck E Cheese birthday party on anyone—that place gives me a perma-seizure —the thought of being able to have a birthday party where I don’t have to plan every last detail out weeks ahead of time is very appealing. Yes, I may need to premedicate myself with a couple of Advil and I may need to fight the urge to engage in self-defense when a man wearing a large mouse costume tries to put his paws on me, but *whisper* it would be easier.
Plus, I looked over at Elise’s sweet face, silently begging me to say yes and make all of her 5th birthday party dreams come true.
“Sure,” I said. “We can do it there.”
Famous last words I hope not to regret.
