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"It takes a long time to grow young"
The September-October border is a hotbed of birthday activity. Accordingly, I spent my weekend at birthday parties, trying to learn something about the meaning of life.
Saturday was a first birthday party for a new member of a family I have known for years, a painstakingly normal party for adults showing their kids off to each other and competing for material success. I love baby parties because it means I get to make little friends and play all day, two of my favorite things. Friends and playing all day. The kid is cute, but even cuter is his three-year old sister, an adorable little cherub whose potential may be wiped out by her upbringing, but still has hope for a promising future.
This was proven by a moment when three of us were looking at a photo of the little girl and trying to get her attention by repeating ridiculous things like "Oh my god! Lauren is trapped! How do we get her out of this picture frame?!?" When she grabbed the picture frame and examined it, you could plainly see the gears turning in her head as she tried to figure out what the hell was going on. Her sensory observations were telling her she was obviously not trapped in the picture frame, but here were three people she loves and trusts, telling her that she is. Her brain handled the plot twist wonderfully, and with an adorable scrunched-up face look that shouted, "what the fuck is wrong with you people?" she handed the picture back and walked away.
Then, Sunday, I was invited to the home of two of my best friends from college, brothers, for the older brother's birthday party. I love understanding people, these two especially, and meeting someone's family is a great way to do that.
When it came time for the birthday cake and the birthday song, I was prepared for what I understood to be "the happy birthday song."
What I was not prepared for was the song I actually heard, the loudest most cacophonous barrage of sounds ever emitted by human beings. There were no distinguishable words, just a wall of noise that caused me to double over with laughter, tears falling out of my eyes. It was basically a tribal yell of family celebration, the greatest thing I've ever heard.
Most of my birthday parties have been just my immediate family, giving me gifts I didn't necessarily ask for, usually from Marc's or the dollar store. I don't know what I learned about the meaning of life, but I did learn that there may be no such thing as a boring family party, despite what teenage family members may say.
The September-October border is a hotbed of birthday activity. Accordingly, I spent my weekend at birthday parties, trying to learn something about the meaning of life.
Saturday was a first birthday party for a new member of a family I have known for years, a painstakingly normal party for adults showing their kids off to each other and competing for material success. I love baby parties because it means I get to make little friends and play all day, two of my favorite things. Friends and playing all day. The kid is cute, but even cuter is his three-year old sister, an adorable little cherub whose potential may be wiped out by her upbringing, but still has hope for a promising future.
This was proven by a moment when three of us were looking at a photo of the little girl and trying to get her attention by repeating ridiculous things like "Oh my god! Lauren is trapped! How do we get her out of this picture frame?!?" When she grabbed the picture frame and examined it, you could plainly see the gears turning in her head as she tried to figure out what the hell was going on. Her sensory observations were telling her she was obviously not trapped in the picture frame, but here were three people she loves and trusts, telling her that she is. Her brain handled the plot twist wonderfully, and with an adorable scrunched-up face look that shouted, "what the fuck is wrong with you people?" she handed the picture back and walked away.
Then, Sunday, I was invited to the home of two of my best friends from college, brothers, for the older brother's birthday party. I love understanding people, these two especially, and meeting someone's family is a great way to do that.
When it came time for the birthday cake and the birthday song, I was prepared for what I understood to be "the happy birthday song."
What I was not prepared for was the song I actually heard, the loudest most cacophonous barrage of sounds ever emitted by human beings. There were no distinguishable words, just a wall of noise that caused me to double over with laughter, tears falling out of my eyes. It was basically a tribal yell of family celebration, the greatest thing I've ever heard.
Most of my birthday parties have been just my immediate family, giving me gifts I didn't necessarily ask for, usually from Marc's or the dollar store. I don't know what I learned about the meaning of life, but I did learn that there may be no such thing as a boring family party, despite what teenage family members may say.
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