The other day we went to our friend’s son’s 4th birthday party.
It was set in a beautiful park, on a sunny winter day. There were lots of families and children invited… there was a huge playground, a large sandpit, a big grassy field, a table full of yummy party food, chairs, rugs and balloons. It was really lovely.
I brought all 3 of my kids to the party and they had a great time eating coloured popcorn and playing on the climbing equipment.
Half way through the party, my friends – the hosts of the party – started to set up a pinata. A cute cartoon killer whale pinata.
I looked around at the guests and children and I noticed that my 2 big children (aged 9 and 7) were the biggest kids at the party.
My boys behave wonderfully at parties for little children, but if you give them a stick to hit things with… things can get a bit crazy.
After the whale was set up, all the tiny kids had a go, starting with the youngest. And because they were so young, there was no blindfold. Each kid tapped the pinata with the wooden stick – watching it spin around and around. They were really cute and it was fun to watch them have such a good time.
But I had to hold my 2 big boys back by their t-shirt collars, as they jumped and writhed with excitement – like wild, hunting dogs ready to be let loose. They knew they could do better!
When it was finally my boys’ turn… my 7 year old gave the pinata 5 good whacks. Each time, he smashed it so hard that the sound echoed around the park. On his last hit, he whacked the pinata SO HARD, that the tip of the stick broke off and created a sharp, splintered, menacing spike. Then he began to stab the spike into the body of the whale, like a caveman with a spear, making perfect holes through the cardboard.
THEN my 9 year old grabbed the spear and tried thrusting it in a more ninja style, hoping to get the stick completely through to the other side, so he could use his body weight to pull the spear downwards and tear the cardboard apart in a slicing motion. As he did so, the string broke, and the whale fell to the ground. He tore it open with the spike and the ground was sprayed with a glorious rainbow of lollies and lollypops. All the children shrieked with delight and picked up a cup full of sugary treats.
Everyone thought it was HILARIOUS to watch.
Oh. My. God. I WAS MORTIFIED. I was so *deeply embarrassed* that my sons were so feral and wild!!! That they were *so good* at destroying things with confidence and style!!! What would other parents think?? What kind of mother am I?? What kind of hobbies do I let my sons get into?? I wanted to shout out to everyone “My sons have never actually killed any animals in their life, really!!”
I was proud but ashamed at the same time. I was delirious and dismayed. I just stood there a little stunned and managed to force myself to laugh.
My boys gathered 6 cups of lollies between them. I told them they could only have 1 cup each.
So they scooted off to the side of the beautiful, tranquil lake to sort, distribute and pick out the best of their prize.
I love my boys, but holycrap their BOYISHNESS freaks me out sometimes.
At least they will survive if they are ever stranded in the wilderness.