When I opened my eyes this morning, I found Parker about 3 inches from my face, thumb falling out of his mouth, drool dripping out the side… and a Geotracks Train gripped tightly in his hand. My first thought was “weird” but the second was “oh shit, what time is it?” because today was the day that we had booked Parker’s belated birthday gift at Busch Gardens.
Every year, Busch Gardens turns basically the entire park into a haunted house (multiple ones actually). This year I had gotten an email that they were turning their “Dining with Elmo” character meal into a Halloween “Spooktacular” with Count Von Count… and instantly I wanted to go. Sure, I thought the boys would have fun- but let’s be real… I wanted to go for ME. I love EVERYTHING Halloween, and most things other than pumpkin picking, kids can’t be involved in because they’ll crap their pants in fear. Something Halloweeny that is MEANT for kids? I’m sold.
Let me also be very real in the fact that in both the boys entire lives they have only ever seen ONE episode of Sesame street total. Just one. They have books and coloring books, but the one time we tried to watch I felt like I was tripping on acid and had to change it, especially after the letter of the day was Y and all it did was mope around whining “WHYYYY?”
I couldn’t justify the astronomical price of taking the kids just to take them… so when the birthday party came and went and Thomas and I hadn’t gotten Parker anything- I thought this would be a great gift. He has more toys than he could ever even dream of playing with, so let’s do a show instead.
A show he is not familiar with, but looks fun to me… because what the hell is the point of having kids if you can’t relive your own childhood through them?
To further justify the price, I decided that I was going to completely clean out the lunch buffet (as it was a “dinner show” at lunch time). I realized I had put on the tightest pair of jeans I own, and then realized that would not be wise, and changed into stretchy pants; I like to think ahead.
I knew that this meal could go one of two ways; either Parker would LOVE it, or he’d completely freak out and be terrified. Silent gigantic creatures can be terrifying for small children.
While I booked this show for my own personal enjoyment, I must have subconsciously known what Parker would enjoy- because I haven’t seen that kid have so much fun since meeting Mickey Mouse at DisneyWorld. He LOVED it. Dancing, clapping, and physically accosting all the characters with 5 minute long hugs.
They even pulled him on stage and sang happy birthday to him. He was in Sesame Street heaven, and I gave myself a huge pat on the back… and a gigantic stomach bomb from all the food I shoved into it.
And even though I wanted to relive my childhood even further by staying in the park past 6pm when all the scaring starts, I couldn’t end such a good day with the kids being scarred for life by some creature with a melted face and hooks for hands chasing them through the park with a chainsaw. He was already yelling “NOOOOO!” at the creepy clowns hanging from random poles, just couldn’t do that to him!
Here is the face of the happiest, belated, birthday boy- all thanks to Mommy being a vicariously living selfish twat.
Every. Single. Time. pic.twitter.com/aAAWWjdrN3
I'm either "I HAVE 3 FRIES LEFT DON'T TOUCH MY PLATE!" or "Please take this so I can't eat any more of it!" There is no in-between.
Dear people writing articles on ways to get siblings to get along, I'll save you the time. The answer is "Don't let them play together"
Please stop Complimenting my kids’ “Good” Behavior goo.gl/fb/rwfojS
Hard pass from me pic.twitter.com/VayvW1eopK
I've gotten to the point where I'd let my kids summon a demon with a Ouija board before I'd let them play Monopoly together again.