I love birthdays.
Ok let me clarify.
I love other people’s birthdays. :) Mine just remind how old I’m becoming and how very much of an unwilling bird I am to go gracefully. I’m fighting tooth and nail and going ostrich-style with head buried way down deep in the sand.
But in its essence, a birthday is just about the most awesome thing ever. A day to celebrate your very birth; a day to get to be super duper special, a day on which people serenade you yourself with at least one goofy song just to get a bite of yummy delicious cake decked out with your favorite stuff.
What could be awesomer?!
And let’s face it…kids get the best birthdays, yes? I mean, I don’t know of many adults who would ask, beg, plead even that their birthdays be at a huge warehouse with wall-to-wall trampolines.
Actually, I do know a lot of adults who would, but they usually do something a little less bouncy and at a spot where you could either a.) dress nicely, or b.) have beer. (See how I did that? A = women and B = men? Oh, never mind…)
So on to this birthday celebration. Not our Pantier Family, but our Friend Family, which is just as good. Meet the Birthday Boy, in all of his glorious six-year-oldness.
And the mayhem that ensued…
My boy wrestling another Friend Family boy.
They’re like a pile of squirmy wormy bugs. But they can actually sweat and sometimes smell like feet.
Our resident butterfly.
Now back to mayhem.
Whomever put this place together was pure genius. Trampolines and dodge balls. That is just about the best idea, ever.
Small fry jumping, complete with thank-the-Lord camouflage underwear to thwart his perpetual crack attack.
What is it with my boys’ pants falling down all of the time?! Sheesh. It’s like a freakin’ Hanes commercial around here. Look out Michael Jordan.
Even he is astounded at the sight. Ha.
Check out time for the little man. He needed some different exploration and adventure.
His world is just only three inches too short at the moment.
The crazy stunts and jumps began shortly thereafter.
Jumping with the short stuff, whose legs were nearly given out but he still had a surplus of giggling to do.
Like father, like daughter…
And…then get your butt handed to you by your bride there, SN. Ha.
You go girl.
I can never resist my own son’s battle cry and subsequent launch into whatever he has decided to launch into.
He’s so deadpan on everything.
Some more faves from the day.
And finally, the singing and cake eating and present getting part.
I found some dimples.
Ok his below is fake – it’s just frosting, which makes it even more kissable I mean lickable.
Speaking of lickable…
That’s what I’m talking about. I’m totally doing that on my birthday, even when I’m 97 1/2. Ha.
By the way? I was the only person who took a nap that day. I have no stamina.