MGM turned 8 last Friday.
[Cue Harry Chapin. Oh, the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon! Weep].
Another post, but we’ve been working with him lately on his behavior, which, at times, is not stellar.
To be fair, neither is mine.
We decided that on the occasion of his eighth birthday, we would not program a formulaic party, but rather would let him say what he wanted to do, and we’d do that.
He was thrilled.
We asked him what he wanted to do on his birthday, fearing the worst. Trip to Disney World? Personal introduction to Han Solo? A Pokemon as a pet?
It was simple.
- Go bowling as a nuclear family
- Play laser tag
- Order Dominick’s (sic: Domino’s) pizza
- Eat a white cake with chocolate and blue (!) frosting
Now this list, I’ve got.
The four of us went bowling.
Spouse used his preferred moniker:
We played laser tag, Boys versus Girls.
We ordered pizza.
We opened presents.
He declared it the best birthday ever.
I’m so glad I let him choose his destiny on this one.
I only get a fraction of things right as a parent, but this was one of them.
P.S. The next morning, we kept the party going by letting him choose two donuts from the local convenience store for breakfast. His mind exploded. This was also a great reminder to me about how simple pleasures matter.