So we recently lost our minds completely and allowed Betsy, our about-to-be-four-year-old, to invite everyone she knew to our house for a party. Our thinking went thusly: We will not go to Chuckee Cheese or other venue in which children disperse in all directions and don't hang out with each other or their parents. We will not be having a Princess Fest in which little boys would have a poor time. We will not be buying a cake that someone else made and we will not be supplying pony rides or any other such insanities, else when she's sixteen she'll be asking us to finance a moonshot. So many things were going to have to bow to mommy and daddy's desires for wholesome, non-commercial fun that by-god, we said to ourselves, at the least she should be allowed the extravagance of inviting whoever she wanted.
And the list grew. And it grew. And it grew. And the RSVP list sat. And it sat. And it sat. Until two days before the shindig when suddenly a flood of "yup, yup. Planning to be there!" Phonecalls came to me while I was trying to work. 1,2, 3...15... 25... ohgodohgod 32 kids. Right. And attendant parents. Whom we will have to feed and entertain.
Now a blow-by-blow account of sitting up until midnight prepping goodie bags, stuffing the pinata (because who could resist letting little kids beat Dora the Explorer with a big ole stick) might not interest you. And a post mortem of things we ought to have done (for example starting the grill at 9am and prepping ALL food the night before) also might be overly nitty gritty. The party happened. Reed, my mom and I worked like crazy. Betsy seemed to have a pretty good, though somewhat overwhelming, time and she and Ginger collapsed in an exhausted puddle when it was all over.
But when the party was all over, we still hadn't opened presents yet. And that's worth a discussion. I thought hard about whether to post this post. Would attending parents who read this blog be offended? Did I care? I dithered. I fiddled. And in short, anyone who is insecure enough to wring their hands and say-woe-is-me-she-hates-us-cause-we-didnt-include-a-gift-receipt has got it all out of proportion. I hate no one. The things Betsy was given were lovely. And other friends could use this entry. Nuf said. People with little children who will attend parties in the future, consider the following rules next time your kids are invited to a birthday. The following are good birthday party ettiqutte for (at least) the preteen set.
1. As a matter of ettiquette, it's polite to call the inviting parents and ask them what their preferences are about gifts for their kids.
2. If you make the aforementioned call, it is negated as a politeness unless you actually USE the information so gleened to buy an appropriate gift.
3. Especially if you did not follow rules 1 and 2, it is polite to include a gift receipt with what you buy so that it can be returned if it's a duplicate or ... ahem... deemed hopelessly inappropriate.
4. If for some reason you really can't do 1, 2, or 3... buy something without monstrous Disney or other marketing push behind it. Books -- especially classics -- are *very* safe purchases.
5. Extra credit for thoughtfulness goes to parents who put presents into gift bags instead of wrapping them in wrapping paper. This is for two reasons: a. It makes parental pre-snooping of gifts to be sure there's nothing you don't want your tot to have much much easier and b. You can reuse the gift bag next time your own child takes a gift to a party.
I may actually have an ammendment to the overall list next September about how you should behave when the parents ask that no presents be brought. I think that's what we're going to try for the next few years.
Peace, yall.
K.
Posted by karen at October 10, 2006 12:17 PM