Of birthdays

 So, both Anno and Jen were curious about what a golden birthday is. I’m not sure where I picked up the term (probably way back in the day at elementary school), but it’s when your age matches your birth date. For instance, my golden birthday was my eleventh.

Kyra has revised her plan to get her piers eared. She’s looking at the ripe old age of seven for that, since I’ve explained the “pierced” part of pierced ears.

Yesterday, we attended a birthday party for a boy in her class. It was held at a tapas bar and restaurant in Uptown, the funky/trendy part of Minneapolis. This seemed a little odd for a six-year-old’s party. But then, so does scheduling five hours at Chuck E. Cheese, so I was like–whatever.

Before we left yesterday, Kyra filled in the missing link. The party was being held there because the family owns the restaurant.

Oh. All becomes clear.

And it was funky and fun. They closed off the bar area for the party, had lots of games and music. Hot dogs for the kids. For the adults, green apples and Spanish cheese drizzled with honey served with prosciutto and crusty bread. Later, they brought out paella. (You foodies, you would’ve gone nuts, I’m telling you.)

It was all very eclectic and funky and fun. Kyra won a round of hot potato and got to chose a prize (above and beyond the goodie bag the kids take home). Andrew ate four hot dogs and was still hungry.

Good time = had by all.

In two weeks, Kyra attends a princess birthday party where one is requested to wear one’s princess dress. The excitement is already mounting. I’m telling you, I may not have a social life, but my kids certainly do.


Filed under Kids

3 responses to “Of birthdays

  1. Oooh… princess dresses. I’m already jealous!

    I feel gypped (jipped?) that I didn’t celebrate a golden birthday. I mean, I HAD one, but didn’t know it. Can I have a do over?


  2. My golden birthday was age 13. I think that has to be an oxymoron.

    You’re right, I would’ve gone nuts. And the weirdest “kid” party I went to?

    Watching “Funny Girl” on the big screen and then having dinner at Mama Leone’s in a private dining room (a generally adult restaurant). This was for a six or seven-year-old who loved, loved, loved Barbra Streisand. The whole divorce/abuse Nicky Arnstein thing probably went over our heads, though.

  3. Princess dresses and paella — what fun! I can’t think of a single mother whose social life isn’t tied to that of her kids. At least yours are taking you to some interesting places.

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