Leo turned 6 on Saturday.
I made it through 12 years of parenting and 25 birthday parties for my kids without a single party at Chuck E. Cheese. Until this year. Birthday party #26.
It’s the equivalent of the Olympic speed skater coming around the last bend in first place, then crashing, sprawling, sliding, careening and landing two inches short of the finish line.
I almost made it guys.
But hey, at least I got a new set of glasses from the deal!
Also, yes, I know it’s technically called Chuck E. Cheese’s but that’s just stupid so I’m just calling it Chuck E .Cheese. I have earned that right after spending the first sunny day we’ve had in two months deep in the belly of a gray brick building with the world’s creepiest band.
The entire point of the party boiled down to the 30 seconds Leo got to spend in the ticket tornado booth. Here he is, shoving tickets into the most logical place he could find:
At the end of 30 seconds, as you can imagine he had a giant load in his pants. We all helped him empty his pants right there in the middle of Chuck E. Cheese. Leo does not know it yet, but it was the lowest moment of his life to date.
When it was time to tip our server we took out a bunch of $1 bills and tried to get her to go into the booth herself, but she wouldn’t do it. I guess our party package didn’t allow for that.
The only two things I made for the party (a sad nod to the glorious birthday parties of yesteryear):
Well, technically I guess I made three things, as I take full responsibility for this creation as well:
There is absolutely no filter or photoshopping on this photo. He just looks like that now.
I blame the ticket tornado.
WHAT’S COOKIN’ 2NITE: