People are insane, I said. What are people thinking when they throw parties for their 1-year-old children who can't remember who Grandma is, let alone realize it is her birthday?
People are insane, I said. Why do they buy presents for someone who is gleefully happy to sit on the kitchen floor in front of the potato bin and lick or bite each potato and then immediately discard it?
People are insane, I said. Why do they go to such elaborate attempts to have a fully-planned party for a child who only wants to know when her next meal is coming.
Clearly, the tables are turned. It is now me who is insane.
"We've never been close enough to family to celebrate much," I said. "It's my birthday too - we'll celebrate together."
Except, somehow, I've ended up with a Dr. Seuss-themed party with a bazillion kids, an equal number of adults and a list that breaks the menu preparations into shopping lists and "to do" lists for each day a week prior to the party.
Somehow, I don't think this is my party any more. I even went to check out Dr. Seuss books at the library last night, at which point I discovered that One Fish, Two Fish has got to be the longest picture book in history, To think that I saw it on Mulberry Street is still my all-time favorite and Return of the Cat in the Hat is still better than the original, but failed to find anything that would inspire me much.
I'm still at a loss at what to do with two dozen children, if I should make a cake or ice cream cone cupcakes and what, exactly, I was thinking when I thought this was a good idea.
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