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The 'life of the party' is practicing

September 14th, 2017 | Tommy Wells, Editor Print this article   Email this article  

As a general rule, birthdays have never really meant that much to me. Most days I can't even tell you how old I am because, you know, age is just a number, and because of my huge distaste for anything to do with math, I generally avoid any thought of numbers.

It is true ... I abhor numbers. I'm pretty sure if I died and the Great Adjudicator in the Sky said I had been bad and needed a timeout, my version of Purgatory would be sitting in math class with Ms. Purvis drawing pi charts on the chalkboard. OMG! I feel a need to have someone throw holy water on me just for that thought ... and I'm not even Catholic.

But I digress ...

However, it seems She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Made-Mad feels we should celebrate (which means we ARE celebrating) Baby Jewels' upcoming birthday with a party. Ummm ... parties usually mean we have to spend money ... and then there's the whole thing about the mess to clean up.

"It'll be fun," SHMNBMM says.

Has anyone ever noticed that when your significant other says "it'll be fun" it usually means it will cost money? Not just any money, mind you, but your money ... the earlier reference probably enough about this

"You'll have fun," she says. "All the grandkids, nieces, nephews and their friends will come over. We'll play games and they can run around and have a good time. Don't you want our kids to have a good time like we did when they were growing up?"

"Well ... actually," I said slowly, while backing up far enough from her to protect myself. "No, I don't."

Just so you know, the backing up idea was smart on my part.

"What?" she said. "You don't mean that, you dummy (actually, that isn't what she called me but since this is a family paper ...)."

"Babe, I think you have selective memory impairment," I said. "When our children were growing up, it was not fun to have birthday parties. Don't you remember the screaming? The mess? All those little kids jumping on the furniture and interrupting the Dallas Cowboys broadcast?"

I could tell by the look on her face that she didn't remember.

"I'm just saying we should let our children throw their kids a party," I grumbled. "Then we could sit back and enjoy the payback."

"Do you mean to tell me you don't want Baby Jewels to have fun on her birthday?" she asked. "If she doesn't have fun on her birthday, I can assure you that you won't have peace until yours."

My birthday is almost a year away.

Dang! She had to hit me with the "Poor Baby Jewels" tactic. I'm a sucker for that ... but mostly I know she wasn't kidding about peace in the castle.

"All rright," I said. "But I don't think I'm going to enjoy this."

"You say that every year," she laughed. "You'll show up and be the biggest kid in the room."

I assured her I would not. I'm way too dignified and old for that.

"Really," she said. "Who is the one who always throws confetti in the air? Who has taught the kids the 'take off the thumb' trick every year since the Civil War? Who always wears the clown suit? Who's always first in line for cake and ice cream? Who always rearranges the furniture into a blanket fort?"

She had me there.

"Well, I still don't know ...," I said.

"It'll be fun," she said.

I grumbled.

"There'll be cake and ice cream," she offered.

Hey ... now we're talking my language. I hope it is chocolate.

"I guess since it's for Jewels, we can do it," I said. "But you are going to have to do the planning and set-up. I have to go."

"Where are you going? The party isn't for two weeks," she observed.

"I know," I said. "But I don't have time to stand around and talk right now. I have to sneak off and work on my thumb trick. I'm pretty sure they won't figure it out this year."

Well ... maybe Jewels won't. After all, she is just turning one.

Tommy Wells is the editor of the Homer Tribune. Everything in this column is true, except for the parts that have been fabricated, exaggerated or are just plain lies.


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