Monday, January 08, 2007

Smashing

Only two words come to mind to describe the aforementioned party:

Mountain

Molehill

Oh yes, it's true, I am as dramatic as my critics claim me to be. But all drama aside, wouldn't even the stoic of all people begin to sweat a teensy bit under the collar when they are hosting their very first party ever full of 25 actual guests? And by actual guest I'm not counting myself or my amazing husband into the equation, the same amazing husband who was left to entertain 4 sad husbands forced to attend a birthday party for a, although adorable 1 year old, a 1 year old. Now, how many husbands would prefer to trade weekend football for a babbling diaper wearing 1 year old, despite her model cuteness?


Success was my friend and Camille seemed to have enjoyed herself thoroughly so much so that she finally did the smashing of the cake, something she refused to do on her actual first birthday, much to her dear Aunts dismay. The cake, previous cake, was painstakingly made by this dear Aunt, my amazingly talented oldest sister who adores her baby niece. She made each and every rose and wrote Camille's name in hot pink icing. She constructed the ever so popular smash cake which just wasn't that popular to my girl. So, you can imagine her delight to discover that Camille instead participated in smashing a cupcake. I just think she knew that the cake was much to precious to smash but Mama's cupcakes were disposable.



And now, do you finally understand, based on the numerous noises in the background, why I was a wee bit tense?

Ha, and you call me dramatic!

I rest my case.

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