The only constant

The Plan: A birthday party for Danger Mouse (newly turned ten this very day) of, eh, well, we’re late planning this so let’s call it maybe six kids in addition to our four.

Revised: Oooookay, eighteen kids in addition to our four, a jumping house, $90 in pizza, cake and ice cream. But it’s over at 3:00 so we can collapse in a state of advanced lethargy later in the afternoon.

Update: Right, so, two more kids showed up at 2:45 so they’re staying a little later. No big.

Correction: Oh, there’s the other two neighbor kids. OK, so, they’re just…settling in for a while. No problem, they live right up the street…

Clarification, please: Sleepover? Who said anything about…oh, well, I guess just the one friend is no big deal, that should be fine…

Several phone calls and trots up and down the street to consult with parents later: Six giggling, whispering girls between the ages of 6 and 13 are deposited on mattresses, in sleeping bags and doubling up on beds all over the Den. None are sleeping. None are likely to get around to it before 3 a.m.

Conclusions: One father wonders how he keeps getting talked into these things (and/or left out of the decision making process).

One birthday girl is delirious with joy, having had The Absolute Perfect™ birthday celebration.

One formerly disappointed pre-teen who was supposed to go to her first “big” slumber party next week (cancelled because the organizing child’s parents suffered a spasm of sanity realized they had a scheduling conflict) thinks her lot in life considerably improved.

One little brother is a bit perplexed by the sudden influx of sisters and rather hopes they are going home soon because they sure do boss people around an awful lot.

One youngest child is sleeping for the first time in a house where her parents are not. (They live next door. She'll be fine.)

One big sister gets to finally not have to go to a boring old stupid little brother baseball game FOR ONCE tomorrow.

One little brother is irritated that having a baseball game first thing in the morning means he can't crash the sleepover party. SO not fair. {pout}

Ten children are looking forward to bacon and waffles and eggs tomorrow, even though they are currently so stuffed with pizza, cake, ice cream and watermelon that they could hardly walk up the stairs to their assorted sleeping spots.

One mother is questioning how it is she gets herself into these things, but has to admit that when one lives in a Den of Chaos where the only constant is change, well...things are going to change. Constantly.