Hm. The party went well. I think we had about 12 kids there. I am always fascinated by the bell curve of groups of kids. I figure in party situations you can always discount your own kid, because no matter what his or her baggage is, you can pretty much anticipate how it will go with them. Then, out of a group of say, 12, there will be 2 who are absolute angels who are engaged and attentive and helpful and take turns and wait in line, 8 who are pretty good and normal kids who will follow a lead, one who is a crier and one who is a juvenile delinquent.
That is pretty much what happened in this bunch. I think the YP probably fell somewhere in the group of 8, but he was all over that spectrum. He howled mightily when he lost a part of his costume, but he didn't say a word when someone stepped in his ice cream. (Which makes me question whether he actually IS related to me, because, come on! Ice cream is sacred and costumes are easily improvised.) The delinquent was eventually contained to varying degrees, but good heavens. It was notable enough that after the party Not Your Average Blogger turned to the YP and said, "Are you friends with that person?" And the YP said, "No, that person is too loud and Teacher always has to talk to him." NYAB says, "Good. Do not be friends with that person -- you are too likely to wind up in big trouble."
Otherwise -- I think they enjoyed the games, and the running around, and for once I am grateful the YP's birthday is in February when it is cold and awful, because I am now very good at indoor parties. And that was important, because after weeks of nothing, it rained BUCKETS on Saturday, so there was no, "Hey, kids, go outside and run around the house 15 times and come back when you're tired."
But for the YP, the best part was how his daddy engaged with the group.
Now mind, we are talking about a man who Does Not Do Costumes. Who HATES dressing up. Who "is perfectly happy with who I am, why on earth would I bother with pretending to be someone else" stodgy and uninspired and No Fun and Yes I Would Tell Him That All The Time.
Who, inexplicably, when his little boy decided to be Batman for Halloween, said yes when that little boy turned to him and said, "And you have to be the Joker." And who invested in a costume that cost more than an oil change.
He wound up getting the Heath Ledger version of this costume. I took one look at the mask and was all, "Dear god, you are going to terrify those children. Perhaps we could just put you in makeup?" He said, "I like the old-school Cesar Romero version anyway." (He has not even seen Dark Knight, that will tell you something.) But ... he detests makeup more than masks, and decided he would wear the mask.
So an hour before the party starts, he tells me he has figured out a way to not scare the kids overly, but to wear the mask, and then he will take it off in short order. Hmmm. And he conspires with the YP.
So the kids arrive, and NYAB stands outside with an umbrella ushering people in, and then he disappears. And my esteemed Foodie Staffer got stuck in dreadful traffic, so she was not around to bail me out and take on the juvenile delinquent, but a lot of moms hung around to watch the carnage, so it was all good.
And then, the stairwell lights flash. And I say, YP! Someone is coming! And there is clattering on the stairs and a sort of blood-curdling laugh, and bwah! The Joker (apparently jumps the last 4 stairs on the stairwell, and) appears with his hands raised sort of clawlike and shoulders hunched, and he wanders through the crowd of munchkins demanding a battle with Batman. And Batman, after reassuring a couple of the more alarmed kids, attacks the Joker's knees and ankles and takes him down. At which point all the other kids pile on, and the Joker is dead, and the YP's dad emerges, and we play games and Foodie Staffer arrives in time for cake and afterparty and was invaluable in helping with ice cream service and with cleanup and all's well that ends well.
And at the end of the day, as we are herding the YP into bed, I ask him if he liked his party, and he says yes. And I say, What was your favorite part? And he said "When my dad came down as the Joker and we fought."
From the look on NYAB's face, I'm pretty sure hearing that made the costume -- and the next day's backache -- TOTALLY WORTH IT.
Oh, man. That is the cutest thing ever! Way to go, NYAB.
Posted by: Heather | October 27, 2008 at 03:16 PM