Herding cats...

...that's what a birthday party at the local bowling alley complete with twenty 6-year olds felt like.

Chaos, pure unadulterated chaos. Mix in a huge helping of energy, topped off at the end of the evening with a serving of icing-induced sugar rush, and it's something that even a Guinness and two Excedrin Migraine tabs can't cure. You would think that for one hour, forty-five minutes, a grown adult – let alone two as I had my wife there as well – could handle anything. Well, I’ll be fair…nobody died. No kid went home with a blood soaked shirt or holes in the pants. Hell, we didn’t even trash the place like I’ve seen at other parties. But my God were we loud…and to know you’re loud in the middle of a bowling alley is saying something. ;)

I’m going to dedicate this blog to a person I met only today, but feel he must have a soul of iron, forged right out of the depths of the Earth. I’m speaking of our party host. This poor kid – couldn’t have been 20 – purposefully submits himself to this each and every weekend in order to give us parents a measure of relief in throwing these parties for our kids. How he does it I couldn’t fathom. This easily goes up as the second job I’ve witnessed and will never, EVER do myself. The first is a pharmaceutical sales rep, the second is a children’s party host. They both take a beating and keep on coming back for more. Sick, sick people they are, but they make our lives better and for that I thank them here and now.

So, until next year, about this time...I’ll be recovering. Hey, with any luck I can talk my youngest that it’s really “the thing” to do like his older siblings and just have two or three friends over, go out for dinner, hit the theaters…hell, even have a sleepover. THAT I can manage. Will it happen…doubt it. But won’t be long till I can bid the bowling alley / Chucky Cheese / Fun Zone Arcade farewell forever … and rejoice every day after that.

B.