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Her birthday is fast approaching, yet still several weeks away. I want her to have a gang of noisy-bustling-yammering children to play with. I want her to have cake and ice cream and junk (a bowl here, another over there). I want her to rip the wrapping from all of her gifts. I just don't feel much of a yen for picking up the refuse: the spilt ice cream; the stamped-into-the-ground cake; the driblets of icing; the scattered, balled-up gift wrappers; the strewn ribbons.
There are gymnasiums where part of the "party package" is free gymnastics lessons for all the kiddies (we did this two years ago), there a many "family-style" restaurants where tables are turned into play areas and kids without fear of scathing looks from passersby (we did this last year). This year, Hannah wants a party at one of those arcade-style joints. The ones that are so noisy they should pass out ear-plugs. The one's that have kids and more kids as far as one can see on entry. The ones that have climbing structures, skee-ball, pin-ball machines with their whistles and lights, and more. Hannah likes those crazy tickets that you must collect by the THOUSANDS in order to get a pencil or a plastic ring. (Can't have a kid - or PARENT! - spend less than $10 dollars for each sought-after piece of junk!) This sort of place is a six-year old's fantasy-land. My daughter is ecstatic about the prospect of running wild and free with her buddies from school, whipping skee-balls up the alley, bonking "gophers" on the noggin with a rubber mallet, and collecting those infernal tickets. I am happy to provide her the opportunity! Go To Page: 1
The copyright of the article That Birthday Thing- Again in Motherless Mothering is owned by Jody Hart Lehrer. Permission to republish That Birthday Thing- Again in print or online must be granted by the author in writing.
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