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!