Hubby turned 35 the other day. Seeing how this is halfway to 70 (of which he bizarrely keeps reminding me) and therefore very important, we decided to engage in a bit of celebrating. I let him choose the theme, and he chose a nice, streamlined theme of ‘breakfast’.
After being pounced on by our children at whatever o’clock in the morning, we headed down the stairs for an exciting treat awaiting us in the dining room. (Last night’s dishes, to clear away before festivities could begin.) We enjoyed a small amount of party food – I think Missy had rice crispies, and I went for toast. We sat on real dining chairs. There were some cards and presents, which hubby quickly got stuck into opening. Presents from the kids were going to be a day late because, you know, I hadn’t had that much warning about hubby’s birthday popping up on the exact same day as it does each year.
There were no games, because I felt that, to stay true to theme of ‘breakfast’, and seeing as we don’t usually play games at breakfast, there should be no games.
There was no music, because – again – we don’t usually have music at breakfast, so why break the theme?
We did a little open-ended craft activity. I gave each party-goer a drink, and let them get creative. Unfortunately it wasn’t much of a success – only Missy really engaged with this, and made a lovely milky pattern all over the tablecloth and floor.
We did, however, have decorations. A couple of limp balloons left over from Joel’s birthday, a nearly-dead orchid on the sideboard, and some mess on the floor.
I could have made a card, but ran out of time. Ditto cake.
There were no photos, as we wanted to savour the special moments being created by this wonderful family time together. Why live life through a lens, right?
Can you guess that, by October, I’m partied out?? Apologies Desert Dad, I’ll make it up to you at Christmas.
(With thanks to the wonderful Marilyn and Derek, who prompted this post.)