R.J. just turned nine. Being the good Mom that I am, he of course had a birthday party. I am not going to lie, these things stress me out. I am an introvert, while I like people I prefer to be in small groups, and having multiple kids at my house pushes me completely out of my comfort zone. I love planning parties, decorating, and organizing activities/games, but when the day gets here I promptly need a drink.
R.J. wanted to have an outdoor party with a scavenger hunt, food cooked over the fire, and s’mores. Having a party like this at the end of October is risky since even though the temperature could be perfect, the chances of it being cold are there. Of course the morning of the party it was sleeting, flurrying, and cold. Thankfully I had the foresight to write, “wear warm clothes” on the invitations and all of the boys showed up with jackets.
R.J. wanted to have an outdoor party with a scavenger hunt, food cooked over the fire, and s’mores. Having a party like this at the end of October is risky since even though the temperature could be perfect, the chances of it being cold are there. Of course the morning of the party it was sleeting, flurrying, and cold. Thankfully I had the foresight to write, “wear warm clothes” on the invitations and all of the boys showed up with jackets.
The scavenger hunt went well after I had to make the boys restart. My son managed to see one of the clues and picked it up as the first one, of course it was a clue in the middle of the hunt and they were all confused. The cards were numbered, but that little bit of information was ignored, so we had a restart. After the restart they all worked well together to figure out the clues and were rewarded at the end with bags of ingredients for s'mores. Since it was a birthday party, I allowed them to make the s'mores before lunch, I mean they were having cupcakes as well so splitting up the sweets makes them healthier, right?
R.J. really wanted to cook dinner over the fire for everyone and have Spaghettios, but I convinced him to allow me to make hot dog ‘fingers’ instead. I am usually a hot dog snob, I prefer Nathan’s or Sabrett’s (we cannot get them here), but I just bought hot dogs this time around. To make them look like fingers just make a few notches in the middle to look like knuckles and then cut a bit off the end to look like a finger nail. Ketchup made the ‘fingers’ look bloody (ketchup on hotdogs is sacrilegious, but it’s what the kids wanted and it served as our ‘blood’) and the main course, if you can call it that, was a hit.
All of the boys left except for one, he hung out for a while outside with R.J. while his mom hung out with us in the warm kitchen. Darkness eased itself in and the boys remained outside, sitting around their little fire, shooting the breeze. When the boys finally rushed into the house, they brought in a blast of cold air and this proclamation, “R.J. took a poop in the woods!” (...thus the title.)
I’m fairly certain my jaw may have hit the table, while my husband worked to confirm this information. “R.J., did you take a shit in the woods?!” R.J., “Yup.” Shannon, “Why didn’t you just come to the house?” R.J., “It was too far. Don’t worry I used leaves to wipe.” I finally chimed in through snorts is laughter, “You are going to need to shower immediately.” Of course my new nine-year-old did not see the reason for this, but showering was enforced. The survival themed birthday party became more than just a theme, as always my boy took it to the next level, no harm done, but a lot of laughs.
It was a successful birthday party, a day where I was completely relaxed, a day where a few boys (and one little sister) were able to run around outside, hunt for part of their food, and sit around a campfire, and it was a party that was so simple to plan. Perfect.
I’m fairly certain my jaw may have hit the table, while my husband worked to confirm this information. “R.J., did you take a shit in the woods?!” R.J., “Yup.” Shannon, “Why didn’t you just come to the house?” R.J., “It was too far. Don’t worry I used leaves to wipe.” I finally chimed in through snorts is laughter, “You are going to need to shower immediately.” Of course my new nine-year-old did not see the reason for this, but showering was enforced. The survival themed birthday party became more than just a theme, as always my boy took it to the next level, no harm done, but a lot of laughs.
It was a successful birthday party, a day where I was completely relaxed, a day where a few boys (and one little sister) were able to run around outside, hunt for part of their food, and sit around a campfire, and it was a party that was so simple to plan. Perfect.
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