For the most part, I like kids. What drives me crazy are children’s birthday parties, four hours of forced fun where toddlers don’t give a shit about anything but candy. Give ’em a rock, a stick, gold nuggets or anything that doesn’t have candy that goes with it, and they go batshit.crazy. Actually, they are already batshit crazy because they are little children, adding sugar just puts them in a state where they could frighten the Taliban. I bring this up because yesterday I went to a two-year-old’s birthday party. In fact, the party came to me, it was held at our house so the little hellions could swim. But the joke was on them; it rained. That didn’t stop the birthday boy; he fell in the pool, and his dad (my semi-son) ruined a $100 pair of Cole Hahn loafers hauling the little sucker out, none the worse for wear.
I tend to get anxious in groups. In groups of two-year-olds, I tend to get batshit crazy. While most of the “fun” was going on outside, I retreated to the den to watch hockey on the 70″ TV. I hate hockey, but my son loves it. So, to stay out of harm’s way, I watched three hours of Hockey, leaving the room occasionally to go lie down and pretend I was asleep.
Soon, the birthday party feast was laid before kids and their parents. Hot dogs, chili, queso, and tiny-sized bottles of gin. When they were good and drunk, the toddlers began screaming for the pinata. If you’re not from an area with Hispanic cultural, you may not know what a pinata is. Good for you. It is an attempt to let little ones to take a stick and blindly try to smash a paper mache toy filled with–you guessed it–candy. Since the kids are blindfolded and turned around a few times, their aim sucks, so at least one father usually, has his balls crushed with the stick. Howls of laughter ensue from the non-crushed parents.
After the pinata is finally broken, there is a wild dash for…candy. About that time the rain started, so the party was moved inside, and I tried to move to the bedroom. My wife insisted I stay and watch the “opening of the presents.” The birthday toddler usually has no idea what is going on, only that good shit is being handed to him. Clothes are automatically thrown to the side in favor of plastic shit and…candy. The little attendees look on with jealousy in their eyes, and they sometimes try to swipe the good stuff…like candy. After the presents are all opened, the parents mill around a bit, and begin heading for the door; hoping to get home and watch hockey.
If you have experienced one of the parties, I’m sure you said to yourself, “No more birthday parties until the kid is 13, and no booze will be served–only candy.