Happy Birthday HP.
Our Goldfish is officially six years old. We can’t believe how incredibly fast the last few years have gone by; how much he’s grown, who he’s becoming, how awesome he is. I could write volumes about this little man and how deep my love for him runs. But for today, we concentrate on his party, because in a word, it was magical.
Because for the 364 days preceding this birthday, he’s been planning the party. Yep. Pretty much after we wrapped it up from last year’s “How To Train Your Dragon” party, we’ve been discussing what the next one would be. And up until about five weeks ago, it was going to be very small, with a select group of four boys, for a backyard campout and sleepover.
Then he really started getting into Harry Potter. As in, we read book 1, then watched the movie. As in, we’ve nearly finished book 2 as of tonight, and the movie is cued up and ready in the AppleTV.
As in, we had a Harry Potter Birthday Party, complete with HP’s Every Flavor Beans, HP’s Polyjuice Potion, an owlery of cupcakes, and a bazillion fun-loving kids. (Lucky for us, Harry Potter and our boy share the same initials – coincidence? Nope. Magic.)
Check out the glasses, man. Classic.
After all of the “students” arrived, they were sorted by the Sorting Hat into their Houses and the Quidditch Tournament began.
We only had to use two ice packs from direct hits by rogue brooms. It was deemed as a huge success.
And of course, there were wands to be made and spells to be cast.
But the funniest thing of all was completely unplanned and totally stole the show. I found a really cool sparkler in the shape of the number 6, which I thought would be insanely cool.
Our boy, however, thought it was a trick candle and would not admit defeat.
The harder he blew, the sparklier it became.
I thought he was going to get lightheaded and pass out from all of his maniacal breathing and blowing.
And then, the finale. Watch the little guy next to ours – his face is priceless!
I’m pretty sure he thought the birthday boy would fail miserably. But finally, finally, that sparkler fizzled out and the kids ate cupcakes like they would fly away if not consumed.
The adults immediately asked for the cupcakes that didn’t have a layer of spit on them. And yes, I had some stashed in safe spot for those of us wanting cupcakes-sans-saliva-frosting.
All of this in our two-hour time frame allotted to be under the shelter at the park. Valiant effort, if I do say so myself.
We commissioned some party-goers to help us load loot into the car,
And our boy thought he’d give his new Nimbus 2000 a go to race us home.
Sadly, he couldn’t remember the spell to make it fly.
And knowing that it’s possibly poor form to mention too many details about making his party happen, I have to publicly, and in the largest forum I know, thank the hubs for sticking it out with me until 3:30 a.m. the night before making polyjuice potion labels, helping me separate Oreo cookies for owl eyes, sticking Junior Mints on those eyes, filling plastic bags with jelly beans, printing out spells and slipping them into how-to-make-your-wand baggies, and helping me stay awake to get everything done. (The boys and I had been gone the entire week before the party and we had to leave everything until the very last minute.) A lot of times I get all of the kudos for these birthday parties and there’s no way that any of them could be pulled off without Hank. So, thanks baby.
It was awesome, and our birthday boy was blown away.
And wouldn’t you know it, in the meager five minutes it took us to get home from the party, that child asked about what his seven-year-old birthday party would be like.
He’s now grounded until further notice.
And I am playing with all of his new toys.
Signed, the most loving mother in the galaxy.