putz

...with a capital P. That would be me.

This evening was MyFavoriteKid's birthday party at the BouncyPlaceOfInsanity I spoke of earlier. And.....

I FORGOT MY CAMERA.

See, this is how it happened.

MyFK has been saving for almost a year now to buy himself a Wii, and when he finally had enough dough, we couldn't find any in stock within a 100 mile radius. I got a line through a Target employee that today was the day the truckload was coming in, but MyFK was with his dad this weekend for the time between the birthday dinner and the kids party, so I couldn't take him shopping.

So like a loving mommy I can occasionally be, I got up at the buttcrack of dawn to go score him one (well, it's not like I could see the dawn---you know that fire?? It had burned 3,000 acres by the buttcrack of dawn, so dawn was dim. My eyes have been burning all day. The valley is all brown and hazy).

Anyhow.

So there I was, in line outside of Target, waiting for them to open with a bunch of other folks that apparently also had been given told the same secret by the same blabbermouth, but they had plenty in stock, and I was lucky enough to score the kid his Wii.
packed
I brought it home, and TheMostImportantGuy plugged it all in and loaded it all up so it would be ready for MyFK to play when he arrived home after the birthday party at the BouncyPlace. Immediately upon hooking the thing up, TheMIG tested it out by playing Wii Tennis.
For an hour.
(probably more...he even had the Wii version of tennis elbow)
And TheMIG was cursing the whole time!! Which he never does (unlike me, who has lost almost $25 to our new super expensive household "swear jar", but that's a story for another day).

Anyhow, I found the whole Cursing-Wii-Tennis-Scene so hilarious that I pulled out my digital camera (out of the bag I had already packed to go to the party) so that I could shoot a video of TheMIG swingin' at a TV set and cursing like a sailor. Then I downloaded the video off the camera and onto the laptop, so the memory card would be clear for the party. And then I left the danged thing on the table next to the computer.

PUTZ.

Well, there was a liquor store around the corner from the bouncy place, so I bought a disposable camera, but DANG. MyFK will probably be a teenager by the time I finish off the roll and get it developed, if I know me.


Other than the camera mishap, it was a pretty decent party. Prior to today, every single time I have ever seen a bounce house anywhere, I have also seen a kid crying with a lump on his head, or a fat lip or something. I just sort of figured that today would be no different, and so I was prepared for the fact that someone was gonna be crying, but thankfully no one did. That fact alone made it a decent party.


There is one thing I couldn't figure out about the drill at the BouncyPlace, though. T

hey have the kids jump around like a bunch of crazies for an hour and twenty minutes, then they feed them, THEN they give them cake, and then the kids need to immediately vacate the premises so that the next group can come in.

So there the kids are, heading out the door, and that is exactly at the moment that the sugar kicks in. The kids are all caked-up and bouncing off the walls, which is how they should be BEFORE they go into the BouncyPlace, not AFTER. Instead, these frosting-tweaked kidlets are hooting and hollering, and sucking in helium and talking like Oopma Loompas, and trying to play with every dumb little thing in the goodie bags that the BouncyPlace passes out to the kids on their way out the door.

Great. So I get the kids in the car, and they are all wired up trying to play paddle ball from the backseat into the front windshield.
Thanks, BouncyPlace.
I appreciate that.



My apologies if this post doesn't make any sense. My eyes are stinging so bad from the smoke that I'm pretty much typing with my eyes closed.

PS (to TheMIG....get a load of THIS)