Musings from some former inhabitants of the sprawling metropolis that is Prudhomme City
Showing posts with label Go-cart rides from hell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Go-cart rides from hell. Show all posts

Sunday, December 9, 2007

Celebrate! Good times! C'mon!

So yesterday I traveled with Molly and the tribe to Baton Rouge to help Noah celebrate his sixth birthday at Celebration Station. The day began with a fog as thick as pea soup and continued on to yield temperatures in the eighties and upwards of ninety percent humidity. Ah, December in Louisiana. I think this face pretty much sums it all up weather-wise.
Sing along! It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas...if I lived in the jungles of Africa. Can you tell I'm not a fan of this climate? I'd trade places with a person trapped in a snowbank right now. At least I'd freeze to death thinking, Now this is Christmas weather!

Where was I? Oh yes, yes- Noah's party. Molly had asked me to come along to help serve as kid wrangler since Ted had to work, and since I do love spending time with my nephews and nieces, even if it means braving Celebration Station, I signed on. This place is kids' paradise and a black hole for parents' money. As a childess (and not desperately seeking one) person, I have my own take on kids' birthday parties. They usually start out all puppy dogs and rainbows but inevitably lead to hysterical meltdowns by at least one, if not more, of the kiddie participants, which can lead to eruptions by parents and, before you know it, the whole thing has morphed into an ugly scene caused by spiking sugar levels and lack of naps. Not a pretty sight. But it is one I can sit through with a great measure of comfort knowing that, while I may have to witness the transformation from sweetie pie to demon spawn, I will not have to go home with Satan's new minion and perform the exorcism. But, I have to say, Noah's party went really well. Only a few minor dust-ups. Certainly nothing for the record books. They all had a great time. Oh, and the Parent/Uncle of the Day Award goes to Charlie Roy, who drove not one, not two, not three, not four, but FIVE little boys on rounds of the go-cart track at five minutes per ride. And he was still completely sane afterward. That's impressive. Here's one of my infamous photo essays for ya. * Cue diabolical laughter* Enjoy!



The birthday boy! Ugh, he's so cute I can't even stand it. That combination of freckles and blue eyes is irresistible, no?


Noah's cake of choice was chocolate with white icing sporting a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles theme.


Makin' a wish!


Don't you think the faces are a dead give away of the soul-sucking attributes of video games? Me, too!


Max tearin' up Star Wars.


Mary Grace and her moms enjoying the party.

The birthday boy got the first ride of the day.
(This was the beginning of Chuck's torture.)


Charlie and Sam racing around the track. I think this was round four. Notice driver's face. Is it possible he's still having fun?!?

So, all in all, a great day. And, one small request from my fave peeps, if I may be so bold? Begin the novenas for a Christmas Day sans shorts and tank tops NOW! Thanks so much!