Super Bowl Birthday

Operation Birthday Party on Super Bowl Sunday went off without a hitch. All, okay several nations were represented and Gab was a peach. I swear she’s been taking ‘Cutesy’ lessons from someone while my back’s turned. That kid worked every corner of the room and had those folks eating from her sticky little hands.

If you may recall, I had a dilemma with the neighbor’s names in that I did not know their names. Thanks for your name revealing tips, Nylon and mightiadd. Nylon, you actually might want to think about the CIA as you’re quite a clever lil cookie. We were planning on mightiadd’s suggestion of nametags but wussed out at the last minute. My brazilian friend (who deserves an island named in her honor after all the hard work she did in preparing the party…she did the decorating and hors d’oeuvres…ALL of the decorating and finger foods…Gav’s grandmother made the cake…my role occurred two years ago during which time I birthed the birthday girl, ahem…oh, I did provide the drinks for the twins who don’t know when to say when) was given the task of hurriedly making her way to the door and introducing herself when the neighbors came ‘a knockin’. However, as I was having the life forces sucked from my chest by Ethan when they arrived, I wasn’t available to prod her to the door.

E came back to the bedroom mouthing 3 variations of the man’s name and had already forgotten the woman’s name. Fortunately, with the wide variety of names in the room, there was a lot of name repeating and I managed to get the man’s name by the end of the party. All I know about the woman’s name is that it is a “very pretty name” according to E.

Gifts ranged from a latina Barbie to a stuffed cat that looks like it’s asleep and breathing (creepy, but Gab likes it). Gab oohed and ahhed over each gift. She even oohed over a birthday card. ??? See what I was talking about with all the cuteness and working of the room. I don’t know where she picked up her party etiquette. But, each person wanted to put her in their pocket and take her home.

The twins either made out with my chest in the bedroom or snoozed amidst the chaos throughout the party. So, that’s the trick. If I want to get any sleep at night, I simply need to turn the house into a disco club with a surplus of boobie juice jello shooters at the bar. Baby One and Baby Two, we out, G-money. (gab now refers to the twins as Baby 1 and Baby 2…i forget which is which)

My dad was unable to make the festivities. So, I had to represent Alabama of the U.S. of A. on my own. Other countries represented were Honduras, Argentina (a couple both born in Argentina, but the husband is Italian and the wife is half Spanish/half German), Brazil, Egypt, and Pakistan. Everyone, aside from myself and my spawn, spoke English as their second language. The accents were flowing and it was awesome.

Gab was so wiped out, as people slowly started making their exits, she disappeared. We found her here, at the computer where I had a slideshow looping for wandering guests. She didn’t even make it all the way on the chair before passing out. I would call that a successful birthday party.