After only two months, I finally managed to write my column about Josie's birthday!
There are few things that strike fear into the hearts of little girls’ moms like the dreaded words “tea party sleepover.”
When Josie mentioned that what she really wanted for her sixth birthday was a sleepover/tea party with all of her friends, I tried to look on the bright side. There would be no visit to Chuck E. Cheese, no pool party with biting mosquitoes, no lugging food over to Grandma’s house (the family’s designated “party central.")
The bad side? Ten overly dramatic, nail-polishing, loud-squealing, ballet-dancing, giggling goofballs at my house for 18 hours.
As the greatly anticipated night approached, we (and by we, I mean I) prepared a tea party fit for a (birthday) queen. Of course, everything had to be tiny so it could be consumed from the end of tiny red, yellow and green sword-shaped toothpicks.
Everyone who is anyone knows that tea party food must be small enough to be consumed from toothpicks.
At last, all 10 girls arrived and deposited their pink-wrapped parcels on the gift table. After some minimal twirling and knock-knock joke-telling, they began to adorn themselves with various tea party fineries. Crowns, gloves, clip-on earrings, a long blond wig, fairy wings, plastic high heels and various hats and hair bows sparkled from every giggly, wiggly body.
Once they finally settled in at the lace-covered table, they reached for their toothpicks and skewered little hotdogs, baby carrots, sugar-snap peas, petite pickles, popcorn, marshmallows, strawberries and oranges.
They TRIED to use toothpicks to eat the following: croissants with jam, cupcakes with pastel frosting, and cucumber sandwiches topped with edible flowers. There was also an attempt at spearing a peanut, but for future reference, peanuts do not cooperate with toothpicks.
If you’ve ever been around a group of little girls playing tea party, you know that for some reason, they magically act more ladylike when they are passing the sugar and pouring the tea. It’s hard to maintain that demeanor for any great length of time, though, as these quotes from the party (listed in descending order along with their manners) attest:
Do you like my fancy shoes?
Could you pass that tiny spoon?
I would like the vegetables, please.
Sugahhh, please.
I think we need more creamer.
I know how to do fondue.
A piece of popcorn fell in the marshmallows – rescue it!
Can you go cross-eyed?
I’m gonna dance for you.
You need to act ladylike!
What about the birthday crown? Where is the birthday crown?
Happy birthday to myself!
*Burp!* (laughter all around)
Hey, who did that?
That was not very ladylike.
Ugh, get that burp away from me!
Wait, hold on! We are the burp musketeers!
Synchronized burping, everyone! Ready? And… go!
After eavesdropping while playing maid to the “ladies at tea,” I must admit that I was having a pretty good time myself. This was not an exchange of words that you hear every day.
Yes, getting everyone to sleep was impossible (I gave up around 1:30 a.m.) Yes, there was some drama (a fight over a pair of slippers shaped like chicken feet, of all things.) Yes, by the time morning rolled around I was ready for the Mom Cavalry to roll in and commence the pick-ups.
Josie’s birthday idea didn’t end up being quite as scary as I thought it would, though.
Anything that includes tiaras and synchronized burping can’t be all bad!
-from my 9/25/11 article for www.mentorpatch.com
