| What no rant? |
| Friday, 13 July 2007 00:00 |
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So today is my daughters birthday party. That means 20 young teenagers all screaming around the house. I remember the days when I used to have birthday parties (well, I did have one once). I was six, and living in Singapore. It was one of those farewell parties, as I was being shipped off to boarding school in the UK, though at the time too young to appreciate that the best time of my life was to be replaced with a crap school in a dreary cold climate. Then again, I digress. I do remember though waaaaay back that parties were those events where you’d turn up at the event, hand over the present, gorge yourself on the cake until you threw up, sing happy birthday and go.  Not anymore. It’s now a multi day extravaganza. Hell no. This party started last night with a 20 strong sleep over. The garden is full of tents, hormonally charged adolescents and a barrage of doting parents ensuring that nothing untoward happens.So that’s 20 faces to feed, 20 minds to occupy, and another sleepless night for my wife while she keeps her ever watchful eye on the to’ings and fro’ings in the garden. There’ll be 20 mouths for breakfast in the morning and the precession of vehicles carting everyone off to the paintball venue that I block booked. Now what I don’t understand is that all the kids are suddenly united in their insistence that I join in the said paint balling session. Apparently it doesn’t hurt (much) and they promise not to all shoot at me. Why do I get the feeling that I’m being set up here? where are all the other adults and parents when you need them? All too busy eh? When you read this, spare a thought for me. That’ll be 20 people, with 20 guns that I paid for, loaded with MY ammunition all shooting at me. What’s wrong with this picture? Oh, I just noticed. It’s Friday 13th today. Unlucky for some. Add your comment |