Sunday, December 06, 2009

In which I am really eight years old

I'd decided to celebrate my birthday a little early this year, and planned it for last night. It was already fairly little-kiddish (as my birthdays usually are), in that I invited people to come to my house and play board games as we consumed cupcakes.

And then, part way through last week, I found out that the Lighted Truck Parade was again happening on the same night as my birthday party.

And so I shifted around all my plans so that I could have a late supper at Denny's (which I knew was along the parade route), watching the parade out the window and pretending it was for my birthday. I told everyone that they could just meet at our house an hour later than originally planned (although two of my friends came along with us, which was pleasant).

Birthday Parade huzzah! I think next year I'm going to study that parade route in advance, and then find a restaurant that can take reservations, and reserve a table beside a window. Meaning that my entire birthday party plan will be to watch the parade.

(But I'm not as much an eight-year-old as Christopher is. I asked him what he wanted to do for his birthday, and the only answer he will give is "Build robots." He knows he's getting Lego Mindstorm for birthday/Christmas, and that he has to wait until his birthday to open the box, and so he doesn't care about what else happens after that. Other people can come here and eat cake or whatever; he's building robots.)

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