Mom: ‘What theme would you like for your birthday party this year?’ I rattled off several options, each one greeted by an ever increasing amount of bodily twitching and what sounded suspiciously like retching…
Seth: ‘Geez, MOOOM! NONONONONONONONO! I. Do. Not. Want. A. Cake. I want a cookie cake and all I want on it is Happy Birthday, Seth with a big yellow smiley face in the middle. Green plates and cups, that’s it, nothing on them!’
Mom: ‘What about balloons, some decorations?’ I was beginning to think it’d wind up looking like I was holding a wake instead of party. Who parties without balloons, for Pete’s sake?
Seth: ‘Mother, listen to meee…nothing except what I’ve already told you.’
By now, the conversation was beginning to sound suspiciously like previous ones we’d had before, only in reverse, with him talking to me like I was the kid. I could already picture the look on my MIL’s face and hear her mental critique ‘Geez, ya cheapskate…couldn’t even spring for some balloons, could ya?’
But, I suppose it turned out rather well…lowkey, but that’s what he wanted, so that’s okay.
He got two sets of Legos…
they make such sweet music when you suck ’em up into your vacuum…a very satisfying sound and quickly set to work putting the set above together.
I thought I was going to have to sedate the dog..not a happy camper, that one.
Yeh, this didn’t last long, either, but they certainly looked like they were enjoying each other’s company at the moment.
He’s twelve with leg hair longer than mine in wintertime (and pit hair, he gleefully informed me, although I’m so not checking). His voice changes occasionally which is rather entertaining, but as a Good Mother, I don’t chuckle (in his presence). I still get my hugs, although not in public and not actually of the full contact variety. I’m waiting for the day when all I get is a fist-bump….(sigh)