Four Friends and a BIG Cake


In my BK life (Before Kids) I would listen to my friends with kids complain how about much they hated organizing birthday parties. I found their distain mystifying. What could be so hard about having a group of six year olds over to eat ice cream and play pin the tail on the donkey?

Cue the Karma.

Four years later, Sun-Bun is rapidly approaching her fifth birthday and her expectations for the big day cause my jaw to unhinge.

“Mommy, I want a princess party with a bouncy castle, pony rides, cupcakes and oh, magic tricks.”

I am thinking the only magic trick I want is for someone to make me disappear.

Until now I have been able to avoid the party problem altogether. Sun-Bun’s birthdays have been celebrated the same way mine were growing up, with family. Each year I host a simple gathering of friends and family for a nice meal and a reasonably sized cake.

But in recent years Sun-Bun’s eyes have been opened to the epic events of her friends’ birthday parties—those with pirates or princesses, bouncy castles or glow-in-the-dark bowling. She has delighted in loot bags so dense with goodies that I swear they were one gold watch away from doubling as Oscar swag-bags.

I am not a fan of this. It makes me wish we lived way out in the country where Sun-Bun’s only friends were woodland creatures. “Why of course fox and owl can come to your birthday sweetie, we’ll have a picnic down by the creek under the old oak tree.” Sigh.

I decide to handle my precocious four year old and her Princess-Palooza visions the only way I know how.  I negotiate.

“You can have five friends for one hour. No princesses. No ponies.”

Sun-Bun shakes her head in disbelief. “No way! Ten friends and a bouncy castle.”

(Do you think she found my copy of Art of the Deal?)

“Four friends and a piñata shaped like a castle.”

“Mom, pleeeaasseee!”

“The fewer the friends the more cake left over for you.”

Long pause.

“Okay Mom, four friends. But I want a REALLY big cake.”

“You got it Sun-Bun. You got it.”




About Tina

Tina lives in Phoenix, the Valley of the Sun(burn). She is mother to daughter “Sun-Bun”, b.2007 and son “Pookie”, b.2009 and Blue, the saddest bulldog in the world. She is married to a quirky man from Trinidad, which Tina is pretty sure is Spanish for “land of sexy dancers.” During the day Tina works in wireless telecommunications, spreading cell phone signals to all corners of the country - including your car (but please don’t text and drive). Tina suffers from parenting esteem issues which she attempts to mask with sarcasm and wine. She strongly believes that if Virginia Woolf had been a mother she would have penned, “A Bathroom of One’s Own.” She is also convinced that Nature may well be a mother, but the destructive forces of gravity could only have come from a man. When she is not aimlessly wandering the grocery store aisles, digging BPA-free sippy cups out of the back of her minivan or patrolling her home for scorpions, Tina can be also be found at Three In the Bed.

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