There should be a law as to how long a 7-year-old can talk about her birthday party. Any thing beyond two weeks should be prohibited.
Savannah’s birthday is April 22, but she has been planning and scheming for the past 6 months. We – or I should say she – has spent countless hours discussing the pros and cons of movie nights and bowling parties.
The party plans are in constant flux and change according to the mood du jour. There was even a short-lived moment when she considered mom’s suggestion of a Earth Day celebration or a Broadway show with a BFF, which she later nixed for a kiddie manicure.
“I decided I want a piñata,” she announced as we made the Saturday morning dash to tap dance class, changing her mind yet again.
I cringed. Kids swinging a bat in a postage stamp sized New York apartment is like giving a blind drunk the car keys.
I see that look in her eye as she expands on her Mexican theme birthday party.
I finally stop her.
“It’s a birthday party, not an Indian wedding,” I remind her.