The
past few years have tempered my New Years Eve hatred. I've come to
realize that the fancy New Years Eve party is only a reality for a small
circle of people. Just about everybody I know was at home, watching TV
and spending time on Facebook when the ball dropped in New York. I was
in bed, sound asleep with Robby lying next to me. His New Years Eve
festivities apparently tuckered him out!
Our
local pizza shop hosted a Kid's New Year's Eve party, and as soon as I
read the invitation email, I knew that we would attend. We went a few
years ago and, although Robby was considerably younger, he had a blast.
This year I decided to call his friend Rowan who was delighted with the
invitation to a "real" party. I packed up both friends around 4:00 and
we headed out for the big night.
The pair
danced, munched on pizza and played games until it was time to ring in
the "New Year." (In order to accommodate early sleepers, the countdown
began at precisely 5:30.) By the time the young and exuberant crowd
reached zero, hundreds of balloons dropped from the ceiling and the
noise makers began to squeal. We enjoyed a ginger ale toast in "fancy
glasses" and attempted to sing Auld Lang Syne.
After
much contemplation, Robby declared that his resolution is to find
another turtle. Rowan apparently wants to shoot her brother in the bum
with a bb gun. (I wonder if she is going to share this resolution with
her family?) Apparently both kiddos missed the concept of
self-improvement when devising a resolution!
By
6:30 we were gathering our party hats, confetti bits and favors to
begin heading home. Rowan was returned to her family, and we were back
home by 7:00. I realize that my evening paled in comparison to the
events shown on TV, but I wouldn't trade my New Year's Eve dates for the
world!
Happy New Year!
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