Birthday Blues

‘They grow up way too fast.’

That phrase has never had more meaning than it did a couple weeks ago.  It was at Krischan’s birthday party.  He was turning six, which I found sort of strange because I could have sworn it wasn’t that long ago he was still drinking his chocolate milk out of a sippy cup.  Certainly it couldn’t have been that long ago, could it?

Krischan is at an age now where you can see he’s still a little boy at heart, but his spoken words indicate his mind is starting to think with the maturity that the kids of my generation didn’t realize until they were at least twice his age. 

First, the signs of the little boy.

·      The party was at a bowling alley/arcade and included several of his friends from school. While it was rather obvious none of them had ever bowled before nor had any idea how, it was also pretty clear that in no way did that take away from their enjoyment of spending the afternoon throwing (notice I didn’t say ‘rolling’) an eight-pound ball towards a pyramid of 10 white objects at the end of the ‘runway.’  (Note: The bumper guards were in place, thereby ensuring that the ball would knock down at least one pin on their first throw.)  Seeing the excitement on all of their faces—they would all stand on the lane and watch as one of them bowled—was a joy to behold.  Every time pins were knocked down—one, three, once or twice all ten—the excitement shared by the small band of friends came through in random displays of screams, laughter and random bouncing up and down. 

·      The enthusiasm quickly shifted away from bowling when their party hostess showed up with an apron full of balloons and an air pump.  Ladies first: Kaitlyn asked for a pink puppy.  Now for the birthday boy: A purple sword.  It wasn’t long before all of the boys at the party had balloon swords, each one a different color so they would know whose was whose.  As if it mattered.  Once the swordfight began, Kaitlyn decided she really wanted a sword (goodbye pink pony!) so she could enter the combat.  (Kaitlyn, the only girl at the party held her own against the boys.) 

·      Then came a short—a very, very short time out to enjoy the birthday cake that was covered with blue icing and had an edible shark on top.  Everyone caught their breath long enough to watch the birthday boy blow out the flame of a single wax candle in the shape of the number six.  Although each child was given a generous slice of cake, it didn’t hold their attention for very long because they all had gift cards for the arcade and as I already said by this time they had all caught their breath.  Hello, second wind!  (Note: If it weren’t for one particularly hungry G-Pa who loves vanilla cake, a whole bunch of cake would have gone to waste.)

·      The arcade proved to be the afternoon’s main attraction, center of attention and greatest thing EVER because for the remaining two hours of the party the energy level of the kids elevated reached the sky.  The dark room featuring a maze with red laser beams that had to be avoided at all costs was a huge hit, as evidenced by one pair of youngsters (they entered the maze in pairs) after another exiting the room with beaming smiles on their faces and the same words coming out of their mouths: ‘I want to do THAT again!’  Eventually the other attractions the arcade had to offer were discovered: The grappling hook that all children today apparently have the inherent ability to master; the life-size two-dimensional Terminator cyborgs that had to be destroyed with life-size laser-firing rifles; and an assortment of old school games (skee ball, air hockey, down-a-clown) that have withstood the test of time and maintained their youthful appeal through the years. 

·      At the end of the day it was time to trade in all their points (earned at the various games throughout the afternoon) for some prizes.  It wasn’t long before everyone had their fair share of plastic vampire teeth, super bouncy balls and rubber insects to take home as trophies demonstrating their mastery of the afternoon’s challenges.

Now for the signs indicating the boy may not be so little anymore:

·      I took Krischan to the men’s room (Note: This is not one of the signs I’m referring to) and while washing our hands he looked at me and asked: ‘G-Pa, you know Kaitlyn?  Guess what.’  At that moment I had a life-flashing-before-your-eyes moment as to what he was about to say next.  ‘She’s my girlfriend.’  ‘We held hands.’  ‘She kissed me.’  You can only imagine my relief when he followed with this: ‘Her name and my name both start with a K.’ The look of relief on my face must have been obvious, judging by the reciprocating look of ‘what-did-you-think-I-was-going-to-say’ on his.  (Note: This IS one of the things I’m referring to.)   

·      After the party we drove to Helen, Georgia where we would be spending the night.  At one point during the 90-minute drive my impatience for a fellow driver was displayed in a rash of…well, let’s just say ‘in a rash.’  From the child’s seat in the back came this: ‘Patience, G-Pa.’ I looked back at Krischan, expecting to see a smile on his face and somewhat surprised to discover the stern, parent-like gaze of a little boy well beyond his years in maturity.  Make no mistake: He was being dead serious.

It’s true what they say about ‘out of the mouths of babes…’     

The next morning at breakfast Krischan, still obviously tired from the previous day’s fun-a-thon looked at me and said in the sincerest voice a six-year old could possibly muster:

‘G-Pa, I wish every day was my birthday party.’

It felt good to have my little boy back.  After all, he’s still got plenty of time to grow up...