Basketball Party

I thought I invited 10 kids to Ross’ Birthday Party.  I did a head count after the guests arrived and 11 boys showed up.  Go figure.

 

It was hotter than a ‘you know what’ and the basketball court was extra steamy.  Several kids climbed a tree, a few more wandered into the woods, one kid asked to wash his legs in the bathtub and ended up taking a full bath, Ross crabbed that the weather sucked for his party and another kid wanted to help me put the finishing touches on the cake and organize the utensils.  Ross has a large circle of friends.

 

 

It took two vehicles to drive the kids out to Mike’s parents for the party.  That’s where Ross’ lucky basketball and hoop are.  Friday night Ross got his present from Mike and I.  Air Jordan’s (or as Ross calls them, Michael Jordan’s).  Today Ross asked me if Michael Jordan was black.  I began to feel old.  In the van a kid asked me how old I was.  I told him to guess.  He responded, 36.  I laughed and said, try again.  He came back with 44.  I began to feel really old.

 

After the party I got into my minivan of hot, sweaty 8 year olds and noticed the odor.

The conversation went something like this…

“Whew, you guys reek.  Someone has major B.O. in here.”

One kid responded, “It’s me.”

Another kid says, “No, it not you, it’s me.”

The arguing continues for a while until I tell them, “Fine, you guys all smell terrible, are you happy now?”

That’s when Ross tells me his armpits stink too and asks if he’s going into puberty.  I ask him what his armpits smell like and he tells me, “sort of like cake”.

I think it’s safe to say were not there quite yet.

 

 

 

 

Maisie was exhausted.
 

She passed out on the Mule.