I made it through my Now Mr seven's, (Smash) first home hosted party.
I am not a fan of the home hosted party, especially for Mr Seven. We call him smash for a very good reason, Our little smash has managed to befriend a very small but deceptively fierce, loud and equally destructive army.
My little man is very cute with his army of misfits, (The Does not play well with others Gang.) however they are not so cute when they are in my house and under my care.
For weeks now, smash has been begging, earning, nagging and repeatedly asking for a Nerf War with his friends in the backyard, in the dark.
Nerf. In the middle of winter. In the dark. With children that may kill kittens one day. In my backyard.
Damn his cute dimples, charming Wit and baby blues.
As you can see, I could not refuse his perfectly reasonable birthday request.
A day or two after I sent the invitations, I realised he was turning seven... and seven is the socially acceptable drop and run age for a party... It was to be Me, my hubby (and the saintly midwife who babysat Ms 2 in the warmth of the lounge room xx)
Did I collapse in a heap? Yes, but only for about an hour... Then I did the only thing I could do in this situation.
I organised one kick arse Nerf Party.
Complete with $2 shop camo beanies, and a handful of glow sticks... Oh also about 250 very expensive
bullets Darts....(BTW People at Nerf... They are foam.... foam and a bit of plastic, they are also unbelievably easy to break and lose, Give me a break, I forked out 100 bucks for the gun, I don't want to pay $15 for 25 bullets.)
The trampoline was turned on it's side to become a Nerf shield, and thanks to my husbands uncanny ease at remembering exactly what it was like to be seven, a bit of an obstacle course.
There we had it....One Nerf war.
My plan was to enlist these juvenile offenders as my cadets, I would rule them, they would respect and listen to me.
This did not happen. One child actually interrupted me mid rule explanation to remind me that this was not school, and I was not his school teacher.
This was when I became extremely grateful that it was a drop and run party... I told the child that I kept a very large and vicious dog in the cage right down the back in the dark. (The chook pen) ... and these rules were very important in keeping him safe...... and if the dog hears children that are being rude, he would break out of the cage and eat him.
This worked reasonably well for the rest of the night.
I served hot dogs...two children decided that they hated hot dogs, so I told them the alternative was a cheese sandwich, or booger on a biscuit.
It was amazing what kids will eat if the alternative is a cheese sandwich.
We opened the presents and I learned that the seven year old street word for wow is "Aaawwww Come off it!"
We sang Happy birthday with half of the choir singing the monkey version and erupting into giggles, and we ended the party with twisty party poppers and a lolly bag... We also gave out the plastic medals that I had bought to distribute to my shining cadets for various games of skill that never eventuated, because running and screaming and shooting each other with foam darts is way funner.
I made it through and I am glad, but what makes me happier is tucking my Now seven year old smash into bed eighteen hours after his bed time twitching from sugar and food colouring and surrounded by every soft toy he owns and his brand new artists pencils...... to hearing him tell me that it was the
Best. Nerf. War. Ever.
Happy birthday smash.
Love Mum xx