As I was preparing to exfoliate the unnecessary details from my weekend and prepare a tasty little blog casserole for you, it struck me that I attend a high number of toddler birthday parties. You know, for a man. With no kids.
Anyway, first things first. Saturday morning, I managed to complete a 10-kilometer run. Which I now prefer to refer to as ten thousand meters. It just sounds farther. (Ooo, one million centimeters! Even better.) I've also been singing the "I would walk five hundred miles" song, substituting "have run" for "would walk", "ten thousand" for "five hundred," and "meters" for "miles." A couple more changes and it'll be completely unrecognizable.
I finished in 51:58, which isn't my best. But it also isn't my worst, and as is always my #1 goal in these races, I didn't die. (#2 is getting my name in the local paper. What? I need attention. I come by it honest.)
There was no trophy this year, as I am 39 and at the upper end of my age group. But next year, when I reach that age-which-shall-not-be-spoken, I'll be the young whippersnapper in my classification. This year, I was racing against guys with names like Corey, Trey, and Dustin. But, next year, I'll be going against guys named Dean, Barry, and Stanley -- guys who have lived, guys who have more than likely had at least one prostate exam. And the way I figure, I'll be like the just-turned-50-year-old who goes out on the Senior PGA Tour for the first time. I'll be dominating the dojo. So to speak.
After a nap so short it's an insult to even call it a nap, it was off to Nashville. Yes, my spring social season is in full swing, and Saturday was my friends' daughter's first birthday party. As I stated earlier, I've attended quite a few of these, so I know the drill -- cake, presents, seven thousand pictures, and copious amounts of hand sanitizer.
As a matter of fact, I've become such a pro at these things, I could probably hire myself out to attend them. Actually, now that I think about it -- strange, childless man at a toddler's birthday party -- maybe that's not such a great idea.
Anyway, even a seasoned pro like myself was a bit taken aback by one hiccup that did occur. This happened when the mom scolded one of the "kids" for trying to eat one of the cupcakes: "No! Not yet! Can't you wait five more minutes? I have to get a picture of the table first! "
Yes, because that's what the party is all about -- pictures of decorations. And good heavens, we'd already been there for nearly two hours. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep some of these kids entertained for that long? I know I wasn't there five minutes before I was playing on my phone.
I think I have to side with the kid on this one. And did she really have to yell? That kinda hurt my feelings. I mean... his feelings.
Thankfully, the rest of the party went fairly smoothly. Well, except for the grill catching ablaze. But perhaps that will be another ingredient, in another blog casserole. You know, if you didn't catch it on the local news.
And in case you're wondering, that poor, downtrodden, reprobate kid did finally get his cupcake, as well as an extra Capri-Sun for his trouble. (Actually, he punched a hole clear through the back of his first one. I could never do those things right!)
"But I would walk five hundred miles / And I would walk five hundred more / Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles to fall down at your door..."
Anyway, first things first. Saturday morning, I managed to complete a 10-kilometer run. Which I now prefer to refer to as ten thousand meters. It just sounds farther. (Ooo, one million centimeters! Even better.) I've also been singing the "I would walk five hundred miles" song, substituting "have run" for "would walk", "ten thousand" for "five hundred," and "meters" for "miles." A couple more changes and it'll be completely unrecognizable.
I finished in 51:58, which isn't my best. But it also isn't my worst, and as is always my #1 goal in these races, I didn't die. (#2 is getting my name in the local paper. What? I need attention. I come by it honest.)
There was no trophy this year, as I am 39 and at the upper end of my age group. But next year, when I reach that age-which-shall-not-be-spoken, I'll be the young whippersnapper in my classification. This year, I was racing against guys with names like Corey, Trey, and Dustin. But, next year, I'll be going against guys named Dean, Barry, and Stanley -- guys who have lived, guys who have more than likely had at least one prostate exam. And the way I figure, I'll be like the just-turned-50-year-old who goes out on the Senior PGA Tour for the first time. I'll be dominating the dojo. So to speak.
After a nap so short it's an insult to even call it a nap, it was off to Nashville. Yes, my spring social season is in full swing, and Saturday was my friends' daughter's first birthday party. As I stated earlier, I've attended quite a few of these, so I know the drill -- cake, presents, seven thousand pictures, and copious amounts of hand sanitizer.
As a matter of fact, I've become such a pro at these things, I could probably hire myself out to attend them. Actually, now that I think about it -- strange, childless man at a toddler's birthday party -- maybe that's not such a great idea.
Anyway, even a seasoned pro like myself was a bit taken aback by one hiccup that did occur. This happened when the mom scolded one of the "kids" for trying to eat one of the cupcakes: "No! Not yet! Can't you wait five more minutes? I have to get a picture of the table first! "
Yes, because that's what the party is all about -- pictures of decorations. And good heavens, we'd already been there for nearly two hours. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep some of these kids entertained for that long? I know I wasn't there five minutes before I was playing on my phone.
I think I have to side with the kid on this one. And did she really have to yell? That kinda hurt my feelings. I mean... his feelings.
Thankfully, the rest of the party went fairly smoothly. Well, except for the grill catching ablaze. But perhaps that will be another ingredient, in another blog casserole. You know, if you didn't catch it on the local news.
And in case you're wondering, that poor, downtrodden, reprobate kid did finally get his cupcake, as well as an extra Capri-Sun for his trouble. (Actually, he punched a hole clear through the back of his first one. I could never do those things right!)
"But I would walk five hundred miles / And I would walk five hundred more / Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles to fall down at your door..."
You seem to be living Jerry's life there... "Ya GOTTA come see the BABY!" At least you didn't mention running over Grandma to escape from the grill fire. Or is that why your race went so well? ;o)
ReplyDelete"Maybe the dingo ate your baby?"
ReplyDeleteCouldn't resist a Seinfeld quote after that first comment.
I used to hate attending kid birthday parties because my daughter always required my attention at them. Now she prefers to run off with the other kids to do whatever they do and leaves me to sip my alcoholic beverage and talk to the adults. Now I'm the one whining that it is time to leave already.
There is far too much funny about this to post it all :-)
ReplyDeleteDid you -er, the "kid" - enjoy the cake once it was (finally) served?
Mmmm... blog casserole...
ReplyDeleteSo, the lesson for the next toddler birthday party: take a camera with you for quick-snapping the cake table so "the kids" can dive straight in!
lol...that "kid" sounds like he was a handful. There's one at every party! :)
ReplyDeleteRenee - I like to pretend I am, yes. Love Jerry's quote to George in the fire episode: "So basically, it's every man, woman, child, and invalid for themselves."
ReplyDeleteEd - This being the South, I've never been to a child's birthday party where alcohol was (visibly) being consumed. Although I can see how that would be useful.
And Seinfeld quotes and references are always welcome here! This is a Seinfeld-friendly zone. I went through a phase where every comment I left on Renee's blog was a Seinfeld reference. That was a fun four years.
TC - Most definitely! I mean... best I could tell, he did.
J Adamthwaite - Oh, I'm pretty sure one or two people had already taken several pictures of the table when the cupcake caper occurred. I've also discovered that just reading the word "casserole" makes my mouth water.
Sherri B - Exactly. Sounds like you know the type. There's always an instigator.
I feel for you. I go to many kiddie birthday parties. I get invited becos I am somewhat funny, caring and disciplinarian, all rolled into one! (Mind you, I always side with the kids, it is the parents, I discipline!) Lately I have started to make excuses. They kids I knew have grown up, and no fun attending their younger sibling's B'day parties!!
ReplyDeleteAnd don't dread the 40s. You will find out, you can say anything and get away with it!! Believe me!!
He hasn't outgrown that phase. ;o)
ReplyDeleteBone, you still have time. I was 40 when we adopted a half grown child and then the next year had one of our own... Then, a whole new round of birthday parties started and it wasn't for nieces and nephews!
ReplyDeleteSage it makes me feel awful when people talk about "one of our own," as if I'm chopped liver--a New York expression that means "doesn't count"
ReplyDeleteBone this could be the beginning of a "how did I get to this place" book. Truly hilarious
Right now you're the old man in your age group and nobody cares. But when you become the young guy in the class, everybody's gonna wanna kick yer ass!
ReplyDeleteIn swimming, the older groups are more competitive by far. I bet running is the same.
Don't stop though! I kinds gave up swimming and can't seem to motivate to get back in it.
Ah, our great minds think alike--although my running pace is so challenged that I'm committed to a longer haul than getting into the 40+ category (I'm already there, and it's doing me no good); my long-term plan is to mop up the results when I hit the 80-85 age category. I can totally take Ethel, Mabel, and Leonora when we're all 82!
ReplyDeleteAnd the controlling Mom thing--she who just wants to document fun-not-being-had as though it was fun-being-had? I get enough of that type on FB to make me never again want to attend a party thrown by anyone in the 25-25 age category named Angie.
As a 38-year childless woman, I've attended my share of children's parties too! Once, one of the 'moms' casually asked me, 'So, which one is yours, and I said (without thinking)'none of them', with which she slowly backed away from me with a horrified look on her face, 'What kind of sicko attends a kid's birthday party without a kid' was etched in her mind. A few moments later I put her out of her misery, 'I'm Persephone's (not her real name) aunt!' And the look of relief that illuminated her features, sort of irritated me. I hate being judged solely on the basis of the fact that I don't have kids...so I completely related to this piece and laughed out loud more than once!
ReplyDelete"And then... he waved." What a guy, I can only aspire to one day be that embarrassing to my own brood - haaaaaaaa!
ReplyDeleteKids birthday parties are okay, it's just a shame about some of the parents who throw them - those who often see it as a sole platform to out-shine every other breeder on the block - and as a seasoned four-parties-a-year veteran, believe me, they abound. Sooooo glad my little darlings have now graduated onto happily celebrating their day by sneaking off behind the shed with their mates, to down a bottle of Vodka..
10km is a little over 6 miles, yes? Good for you.
ReplyDeleteI get invited to tons of baby showers because I give really good gifts, but I never get invited to the kid's birthdays because my friends know I'm not good around kids. Although, you'd think I'd get invited because I give good gifts. :-)
Gautami - I'm not sure why I get invited. All I know is my friends just keep having kids for some reason :)
ReplyDeleteRenee - And why would I want to? Everyone loves constant Seinfeld references. Right?
Sage - Well, I was asked yesterday if and when Nephew Bone is ever going to get a first cousin.
Pia - Sort of like How I Met Your Mother, only in book form? I like it!
MarkD - Wow, I never considered it from that angle. Right now, I'm the old guy and they probably almost feel sorry for me. But next year... well it'll be like starting high school all over again! Let's just hope there are no lockers around for me to get stuffed into.
Jocelyn - Yes, yes, yes! I think that's one reason I hardly get on Facebook. There seems to be a whole lot of that.
And I think I like your idea of a long-term goal much better than my short-term plans.
Jill - Here, grab a paddle, 'cause we're in the same boat :) Ten years ago, none of my friends had kids. Now suddenly I find myself in the minority. Well, as sudden as ten years can be, I guess. (Which is pretty darn sudden, in my opinion.) On another note, is it completely horrible that I kind of like the name Persephone?
Shrinky - Well, especially their first birthday. I don't think the kid's gonna remember much about that one anyway. Love the phrase "breeder on the block." We should start a parenting magazine and call it Breeders :)
Xinh - 6.2, yes. Oh, I'm fine with the kids. Actually, I'm better around kids (and animals) than I am adults :)
Not dying during a race is always my #1 goal. I mean, how embarrassing.
ReplyDeleteprepare a tasty little blog casserole for you....nice phrase.
The kid that got yelled at was probably taking his Hulk-like anger out on the Capri Sun. Better yet would have been his death-like grip on the packet that would have resulted in a fountain of Capri Sun everywhere. Preferably inside. On the newly cleaned carpet. During picture time. After all, that's what parties are for!
ReplyDeleteI am totally going to start referring to 5Ks in meters.
ReplyDeleteThis blog casserole was delicious.
I love everything about this. Thank you for admitting that you're a strange, childless man.
ReplyDelete