Possumblog

Par-tay!

So, Friday afternoon, I stop by Dairy Queen on the way home to pick up an ice cream cake. That’ll be the last time--a new crew in place, one dedicated to ignoring customers and projecting an aura of filthiness and lack of concern. Paid for the cake and the cashier just left and walked away and then started yelling for someone to come write something on this guy’s cake. Some chick with a bejeweled nostril and a cell phone clamped to her ear with her shoulder came sulking out from the back and without missing a second of her conversation proceeded to squirt some gel across the cake approximating the text “Happy Birthday Catherine” and then managed to knock off part of the decoration around the edge as she put on the lid. To her credit, she did disappear then reappear carrying a large teat full of whipped cream, which she used to re-do the line of piping she’d damaged. It looked…well, not less worse, but not more better, either. ::sigh::

On to home, where I found that we’d already gotten the first party-goer, and Reba and the kids were in full power-cleaning mode. Which is actually more like a power-move-stuff-to-another-room mode. Luckily--sorta--Reba had the day off Friday because Cat had a doctor’s appointment to attend to. Double ear infection. Which probably explains a lot of her whininess lately, as well as her inability to hear anything. BUT, not so much of a sickness to ever cancel a sleepover!

Anyway, other little girls came and dropped their stuff and went out to play with Kitty in the garage. Poor little thing.

Pizzas into the oven, along with the totally unnecessary addition of pizza rolls in the microwave, and as those cooked, there was fun with a big microphone-shaped piñata, which happened to be full of candy and whistles and kazoos, all of which were soon employed to create a sugar-fueled screeching that would do a combo group of harpies, valkyries, and sirens proud. Also used up at least two of Lightning’s lives.

Supper, where we found that one of the girls didn’t like pizza, then some cake, where we found out she also doesn’t like chocolate, a bit of clean up, and then it was time for the prime attraction, American Idol. I was Simon, Reba was Paula, and Jonathan was Randy. The girls were the girls.

In between repeated bursts of snot-blowing giggling, they actually did sing. “Jesus Take the Wheel” apparently being the single most popular song ever written. They sang, I did my Simon schtick, they screamed when they got to go to Hollywood, and we left it with all of them making the final five, with the voting to continue next week. “BUT WE WON’T BE HERE NEXT WEEK!!”

Yes, I know.

Also had to satisfy the girls with a duet with Miss Reba. As is our usual, we sang a lovely rendition of Neil Sedaka’s “Breaking Up is Hard to Do.” (It actually does sound good--we sing well together, but for some reason don’t do it nearly enough.) Afterwards, I had to launch into my Elvis-like version of “(I Can’t Help) Falling In Love With You.” The children thought both performances were Grammy-worthy. Of course. Because I am just that good.

They got their PJs on, and put on a movie and we went on upstairs, and at some point in the evening, everyone eventually went to sleep. And next morning, MOMMY MADE US ALL SOME BREAKFAST!!

Yay!

They ate like they’d never seen food before, and by 9:30, they were all gone. All in all, not really nearly so irritating as I thought it would be, mainly because they were all sweet girls and not completely insane. And aside from some chips in the floor, and some balloon carcasses, they didn’t leave much of a mess, either.

Lightning even seems to be back to normal.

Mostly.

Posted by Terry Oglesby at February 19, 2007 09:53 AM