Birthday Craft

Looking back at my productivity last week, I should have gotten a lot more done than I actually did.  I'm guessing it's a combination of pollen, being a little sick, and downright laziness.

This weekend, we had a birthday party (early) for The Child.  Usually, the birthday party is a huge crafty affair.  Previously, we've made a giant Monopoly Board (probably the acme of parties), or Opera Sets, or staged our own MythBusters show -- all of which necessitated weeks of craft prep with paints, paper, Sharpie Pens, chalk, and duct tape.  Not to mention hours slaving over design software to create the invitations.

And then there's the cake: it started with the cake sculpted into the shape of a train steam engine with wheels and a smokestack and everything; somewhere I have a photo of the pirate ship cake that had sails and a real prow and plied paper waves; then there was the White House Cake with marshmallow pillars.   This year we were much more laid back and went for a casino theme and in the end it turned into a waterfight party.  

 One of our friends has a child who is exactly ten years older than The Child, and it's always interesting to see how much a difference ten years can make in a person. 

The Birthday Gift I got The Child was a set of Boomwhackers.  They're brightly colored plastic tubes you can strike to make music.  Apparently a post-gift discussion about them went something like this:

The Child:  "I can't believe John got me Boomwhackers."

Mark:  "Why?"

TC:  "Why would he get me something you have to hit and it makes a noise?"

Mark:  (bites lower lip to keep from laughing hysterically because most weekends are 48 hours of The Child hitting the house, the ground, his fort, the deck, bricks, waterguns, or pretty much anything in his hands, and making a whole lot of noise.)

I think The Child thinks one has to hit another person with the Boomwhackers, and thinks I got him a bunch of plastic tubes so I can smack him with them.

We''re having a hot spell of weather here.  It wouldn't be so bad if our yard wasn't already cracking; it has a lot of clay in it, so rains (or the lack thereof) make the ground contract or grow a lot.  The unfortunate side-effect of 90F temperatures is that I don't tend to sleep well.