The Aftermath

The party is over. Almost everyone survived.

Actually, it was pretty good. The day was warm but not mind-broilingly hot; the park we were festivating in was spacious and green (in Redlands, land of many parks). The grandparents were in attendance, as were a dozen of the boys' wee pals. We ate meat products shaped into long sticks, many deep-fried chip-related products, and melon. I was the barbeque master, by which I mean I was in charge of the grilling of the aforementioned meat products, not that I am in any way an expert or prince at it. Indeed, I tried to keep my father at bay, knowing he would be far my superior at barbeque, and wouldn't you know it, he walked over and two minutes later had things working much better. It's tough to be a man. I cope by having no self-esteem; makes social interactions that much easier.

It was a strange celebration of materialism--when present-opening began, the boys would tear open one package and generally want to play with whatever they opened. But of course there were other people in attendance, so we have to make them set those things aside and push yet more gifts on them, making them mumble half-hearted thanks to the giver. They're too young to really pull this off, or even fully realize what the gift-giving really signifies; they just know they're being given many wrapped boxes with fun things inside. Or non-fun things, like clothes, which were unceremoniously ignored. Who could blame them--there were Thomas trains and battery-powered cars, Colorforms (hey!) and construction equipment in spades to keep their attention. You try to force a newly four-year-old to be excited about pants, no matter how nice. That will come later, when they learn about social graces and shame.

It was great to chat with Dan and his family, as well as the others who attended. Frisbees were thrown, trees were climbed, and swings were swung--all in all, very Norman Rockwell (though I'd have been wearing a much more formal button-down and slacks, and probably smoking a pipe if it really had been; the meat products would have been less carbonized, too) and pleasant. I'm wiped out now, but it was worth it. Good times.

ps--Apropos of nothing, and just for Devin, I'd like to report that I'm currently watching The Boogens, which should make him just ecstatic. Surprisingly, it's not as fantastic a movie as that dynamite title would suggest. Early eighties' horror; perhaps not civilization's ultimate expression.