Speaking of Balls, I Kind of Feel Like I’ve dropped One
The Man-Cub turns eleven tomorrow. He has his regular vision therapy appointment (progress report to be posted soon) and, in a serendipitous turn of fate, his therapist also celebrates a birthday, tomorrow. I usually take treats to school in the afternoon on the kids’ birthdays but, since I have to take the Cub out of class an hour early, I decided to skip that particular ritual which makes me feel sort of bad.
After vision therapy, the Cub has a football game and, I thought about decorating his cake and taking it for his team to enjoy but, the weather has taken a turn for the ugly in the afternoons and I really don’t want to chance cutting and plating cake for twenty kids in the rain and/or wind, sleet and snow. Instead, I think I will pick up cupcakes at The Hellmouth and the Cub can hand them out after the game, much neater, still festive and less likely to make me want to chew off my own arm in search of escape.
This leaves us to enjoy his birthday cake on Saturday when he is scheduled to have several friends over for a slumber party. As fate would have it, there is another football game that day as well as a volleyball tournament in a town nearby and, while I guess I haven’t really dropped any balls, I just feel overwhelmed by the number of balls that we currently have in the air.
Oh, and did I mention that Hugh and I are going out of town next week for our annual Fall buyer’s market? No? It might have slipped my mind; what with all the hair-pulling and waffling I have been doing over the logistics involved in when to serve the Cub’s stupid birthday cake.
Aaaand I just remembered that I have yet to pick up a present for the child. I am almost as prepared for his birthday as I was for his birth (one week early) which is to say; not at all.