On Rolling With It

by Doug Hills

Bet you thought I forgot, didn't you?

This was actually a premeditated delay in my article this week, as I wanted to see how the events of this past Saturday panned out. See, like Matt and his daughters, Brady celebrates her birthday in March (on the 10th, to be exact). And this year, she was looking to have a big party with some of her schoolmates. Unlike previous years, where there were both boys and girls invited, this was going to be an all-girls party.

A pink party.

A Unicorn party.

Oy.

Here's the funny thing about planning a unicorn party: there are no stores in town (or in the immediate area) that has any kind of party favors or the like that. Fortunately, there are plenty of specialized party supplies you can buy through the Internet. So at least that crisis was quickly averted.

Now it was just a case of planning for the eight or nine girls that were going to be running around the house. So we went and prepped a place for the girls to play dress up, or play Pin the Horn on the Unicorn, or watch My Little Pony (with unicorns!). We set up a table for the girls to sit and eat birthday cake, and play more games. We blew up balloons. We put up some streamers. We bought a slew of Wendy's chicken nuggets for the girls to snack on.

There was no mistaking that this house became a little girl's party central.

Considering the sheer number of girls that were going to be running around the house, and since I was the only not-girl that was going to be there, Stacey gave me a reprieve, and said I could head out for a bit.

I love my wife.

So, I went over to a friend's house, hung out, and played Halo. Or rather, he played Halo, and I watched. Because I suck at first-person-shooters, and I'm man enough to admit that. Then I get the phone call from Stacey.

"How's the party going so far?"

"Only two girls showed up. You're welcome to come back any time, 'cause we have lots of food left over to eat."

Now, we live in an area where RSVPing for a party or whatever is...rare, I guess would be the proper term. Or, when people do RSVP, it's usually at the last possible moment. So, when none of the girls RSVPed for the party, we just shrugged, and planned for people just showing up anyway.

Apparently, one of the girls showed up on time (her best friend), and another showed up about 20 minutes late (that's another thing about this area; people tend to show up at least 20 minutes later than the start date of a party. You can set your watch to it...and then wind it back 20 minutes for the correct time). No one else showed up.

"Oh man," I thought, "Brady must be devastated."

So a few minutes later I was back home, to assess the damage. I admit, I expected to see Brady upset that her other friends didn't show up.

Far from it. She was having a ball with her friends that were there. She loved the My Little Pony and pink Snuggie (yes we officially have a Snuggie in the house) that she got. She loved playing Pin the Horn on the Unicorn, and playing dress up. She loved the tea party they had.

It was a great birthday party.

After her friends left, we checked with Brady, and asked if she enjoyed the party. With a big smile, and bright eyes, she told us she did. It was wonderful.

Afterwards, Stacey mentioned to me that it's probably harder us as parents that something like that would happen. And she's right; we don't like to see our children's feelings get hurt, potentially or otherwise. So when something like this happens, we (as the jaded societal pessimists) expect to see our little girl come running to us crying, wondering why her friends would do that?

But Brady? She rolled with it. She did ask why the other girls didn't show up. Stacey replied that perhaps the girls wanted to come (as evidenced by the girls that week mentioning that they wanted to), but the parents had other plans. She pretty much went, "ok!" and went back to playing. She was happy to go and play with the two friends that did show up, rather than worry about the six that didn't.

There's definitely a lesson to be learned there. For us, I mean. Brady has apparently figured it out, already.

Another year older, another year wiser.