My oldest turns 7 on St. Paddy's Day. We had a group of his buddies over this weekend to hang out - and one of them was able to spend the night afterwards. They had a great time together playing with water in the backyard and throwing water balloons. I finally got smart this year and had the boys do most of the work by filling their own balloons. At least they can learn to appreciate the amount of time it takes to get that done before they go and smash them to smithereens on each other in about 30 seconds flat.
In saying that they did it themselves, I have to clarify. I had Miss Priss to feed and sent Jim out to help tie them and Debbie to help monitor. Jim had to leave and pick up the pizza so Debbie ended up out there alone for a while. Poor Debbie! What a trooper. She had come in to the party all slick-looking with her hair done perfectly and shining in the way that (annoyingly, for this gringa) only a Latina's hair can do. Ummm... I think being my friend was her hair's downfall yesterday. The spraying water, the breeze and 9 giddy boys unloosed the natural curls that had been chastised so carefully into place. By the time I was able to relieve her of balloon duty, it was history. Of course, she still looked beautiful, but that hair looked at us both mockingly - so thrilled to have been released from it's well-coiffed bondage. Sorry, Deb.
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