So, the party started so-so. It was not as hot as last year and the children were hesitant about the water. We HAD a wonderful slip-n-slide (SnS) with a pool at the end and a water-dumping tunnel in the middle. It was a hit last year, so I thought i would move it to biggest slope in our yard this year. They are nine and live for adventure, no?
I positioned tiki torches around two sides of the pool and by the end of the SnS. I did not count on children standing up in the pool. Bruce and I look outside and one girl is dangerously close to catching her ponytail on fire. We go to move the torches and one girl, who i will dub as Annoying Fat Girl or Fatty for short, attempts to use the SnS. I watch in horror as Fatty gets stuck in the tunnel, drags it down to the pool end of the SnS and proceeds to knock down one of the tiki torches. Horrible images of the yard catching fire, a flaming slip-n-slide and the smell of roasted pig enter my head. I correct the potential fiasco at the SnS and Bruce moves the torches back from the swimming pool.
Proving that karma is a bitch, this other girl who was laughing hysterically when Fatty wiped out goes down feet first. As she hits the end, her feet throw her upright and the momentum carriers her over the edge. I watch in horror and she smacks face first into the mud and the rest of her body flips over pushing her into a back bend. If this happened to me, I would either have a broken neck or not be moving for 3 weeks. She gets up with a shocked smile, braces full of mud and runs to the top. Kids, they are resilient.
Everything smoothed out for a bit, if you ignore the fact that all of the children were complaining about the water being too cold and I easily spent 30 minutes running buckets of hot water to the pool to warm it up. Every time, I would warn these little dumbshits that the water is very hot and they should move back. And every time, some dumbass would move in too soon, or, like Dickman, stick his little hands into it as I'm pouring. The temptation to get one bucket of ice-cold water was almost too much, but I restrained myself.
Presents went off without a hitch and they all managed to keep their wet asses off the sofa.
Cake time...well, that sounds like Fatty's moment to shine. The party started at 2pm and we had cake at 3:30 pm. For that hour and a half in between, when she wasn't wrecking the SnS, which she ultimately destroyed by the velocity of her weight hitting the weight of the pool at the end resulting in the SnS saying fuck you to the world and ripping in half, she was asking when we were having cake. The time rolls around and she will not let my daughter set at the head of the table. The mean teacher instinct in Bruce's wife came out and they threw down. Do not mess with Mrs. Sato, hell, even I know when to back off or she will let the pythons lose and throw your ass around.
Fatty got her cake at the other end of the table and finally shut up.
Magical hour of 4 and the kids all leave. 8 strenuous hours of preparation for 2 hours of stressful high maintenance kids. Last year was great and they were all easy to please. It is reassuring to see that it is not just our kid becoming a brat as she ages and that all parents are dealing with this.
