>Her Super Sweet Seventh Birthday Party
>Ordinarily, we like to keep birthday parties small around here.
But this year was a little different.
This year on Punky’s birthday, there was a bounce house. In our driveway. Don’t ask me how it fit, because I’m still scratching my head over that one. Hubs has a friend in the inflatables business– so we decided to have a traditional backyard birthday party, with the bounce house as primary entertainment. And since Punky’s class is small this year and the kids in it are very well-behaved, we were able to invite her whole class, something I’ve always wanted to do.
W00T!
Heh.
The very next day after Punky made her wish, I got one of those Groupon-style e-mails from Fleur-de-Lis Flavors, a business (and family) we LOVE at the Nashville Farmer’s Market that specializes in authentic, New Orleans-style snowballs. The e-mail deal was that they would come to a party location and make unlimited snowballs for 2 hours- at half their normal rate.
It was a sign.
God wanted us to have snowballs.
Of course, Hubs, our household’s Chief Financial Officer, had his usual panic attack on the morning of the party. While out running errands, he called me and I held the phone away from my ear as words like “completely out of hand” and “spoiled rotten” and “budget out the window” wafted from the phone.
He ended his rant with “And by the way, I decided to buy a pinata for the party, too.”
PINATA!!!
Of course, no party would be complete without (mercifully free) WHEELBARROW RIDES!
In lieu of a cake, we decided on cupcakes. So much easier.
The end result? One very happy little seven-year-old.
Also, one very happy little four-year-old. Because what makes Punky happy makes Bruiser equally happy. That is how they roll.
Also, one very happy mama. The inflatables people didn’t come back to pick up their bounce house until seven that night, so after the party was over, guess who played in it for the rest of the day?
That’s right. Me. And I have burn marks on my elbows to prove it.
At one point, two girls ran up to me, snowballs in one hand, pinata candy in the other.
“You’re the best mom EVER!” one of them shouted before they ran off.
SCORE.
