George Turned 5!

Can you believe George is FIVE years old?  Yeah, me either.  But, we are headed to Kindergarten roundup in a couple weeks, so it must be true.


Obviously, we celebrated his birthday by getting on a cruise ship, but we also had to have a party for his friends.  Sweetly admiring his sister, George chose to have his birthday party at the trampoline park too.  It's very popular right now, and a great way for kids to expend their energy!

 

He saw his friends, played, jumped, smiled, laughed, blew out candles, ate cookies, and opened gifts, announcing in the end that it was "the best day of my life!"  You gotta know he was loving his day.  So glad for him. 

 

The siblings were there too . . .

George loved every minute of it, but it wasn't such a great day for me.  You see, George doesn't like cake (it happens to be my favorite food), and he decided he didn't want a cake at his birthday party.  I should have listened to him.  Instead, he wanted cookies.  I asked if he would like a cookie cake.  But no, he said he wanted Oreos, and I wrinkled my nose trying to imagine shoving a candle into an Oreo.  After much discussion, I eventually convinced him that we could have Oreos but we would also need to have cake or cupcakes since all his friends would expect there to be cake at the party.  He conceded and I ordered a cheap cupcake cake to go along with the Oreos. 

Unfortunately, as I turned into the parking lot, the cake slid off the front seat of my car and fell open on top of the beautiful tan-colored handbag Chuck had given me for our anniversary last year.  I sucked in all the air in the car with my gasp and as soon as my car was stopped, I hopped out of the drivers side and ran around the car to inspect the damage from the passenger's side door.  It was worse than I even expected.  Imagine thick red, blue and yellow icing smeared all on the outside and inside of my purse.  Chuck pulled up beside me and I swear I thought his head was going to explode (apparently it cost more than I originally thought).  All I could do was stare in shock.  He sent me into the party to get it started, while he took over the clean up job.  He spent at least 15 minutes in the men's restroom trying to scrape the thick frosting off of the ouside of my purse.  Unfortunately, it was stained red, blue and yellow. 

 

Then, being Super Dad, he ran to Central Market and picked up a new cake for George (had them put a G on the top) and a dozen cupcakes to serve to everyone.  Interestingly, they all asked for Oreos too.

 

 

Moral of the Story:  Listen to the five year old and just buy the damn cookies and forget the cake.