I'd just made, that morning!, two trips to Target and one trip to Martin's, and, sadly, I'd forgotten--three times--to buy hamburger buns. Not to mention birthday candles, juice boxes, napkins, plastic silverware and cups, pickles, and hotdogs. Yes, I know. Doesn't seem possible.
Totally possible.
My mom had made curtains for the play room, and I'd bought two curtain rods instead of four. My house was a mess, and I was expecting twenty-five people for a dinner of (bunless?) hamburgers.
So I did the responsible thing: I took a nap.
Later, after Jim and Cade came home, I made a mad dash to Food Lion and the Family Dollar. Where I forgot plastic cups for the fourth and fifth times in one day. I still haven't hung the second set of curtains.
Jim's birthday party was amazing, anyway!
I'd called Rachel and told her about my five, plastic-cup brain farts and latest camera disaster, so she showed up with plastic cups. And her camera.
Other friends brought enough deviled eggs to feed a small army (Hold on a second: I just remembered what I'm having for breakfast!), also baked beans, broccoli salad, and potato chips.
I still have no idea how this happened, but there were sliced tomatoes and onions for the burgers. I don't think they came from my refrigerator. Who brought them? Who sliced them? How did they end up in my green Tupperware?
The birthday boy, I think, grilled up the burgers, himself. He didn't mind. I could tell: he was touched that so many incredible people had shown up just for him.
Ok, and let me be clear. This was a birthday party. Not a costume party. Not even a costume, birthday party! And yet:
Batman came, for cake.
So did...Mullet Princess?
And who are these strange, big-haired people?
There was also someone in a police-officer costume. Only it wasn't a costume. And I would say more about that, but it's so much more fun to leave you wondering.
This little boy--we call him Tractor Man, or Yak--brought a big ol' pot of love and dumped it on my living room carpet.
He's quite the attention stealer. No one minds. Also, he loves cake.
He goes overboard with it, sometimes, and it slows his roll.
So...when everyone left? My log cabin was cleaner than it had been for a month! Riddle you that, Batman.
And--even though I totally forgot to offer anyone ice cream to go with the birthday cake--my beloved, the birthday boy, was beaming.
And they all lived happily ever after.
The end.
(Thank you, Rachel Huff, for the photographs, and--more importantly--for your deep and abiding love for us.)
For more laughs, visit Deidra and friends at Jumping Tandum.
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