Overachieving Mommies . . . The Child’s Birthday Party Edition


A few months ago, a delicious little site called People I Want to Punch in the Throat took on the topic of overachieving mommies and kid’s birthday parties.  If you haven’t had a chance to read it, I highly recommend doing so (just not right now).  Jen writes some seriously funny shit.  This post in particular made me laugh out loud because, simply put, I am:

Guilty. As. Charged.

What can I say?  I have one imaginary child and I think everybody should have a really big deal made out of their birthday because it’s the only one real holiDAY.

Case in point: 

New Year’s – The act of celebrating the time when you forget to change the date on your checks for at least another four months and the start date of a vast majority of failed diet attempts.  We celebrate this . . . .why??

Valentine’s Day – Please.  Fuck you Thank you Hallmark.

Fourth of July – This is a fun one, but I think it would royally (pun intended) piss us off if another country loudly celebrated kicking our ass back in the 1700s.  I got it.  We defeated the British a really, really long time ago.  Let’s all collectively agree to move on.

Halloween – We have an obesity epidemic in this country for goodness sakes.  An entitlement mentality on obtaining as much free candy as possible is probably not the best idea.

Thanksgiving – The time of year when Native Americans should legitimately give us all the finger.

(Notice I specifically didn’t include religious “holidays” – we’re just not going to touch those with a 10-foot pole).

So all that’s really left are our birthdays and we think you should rock that party like it’s 1999.

This past year, my imaginary child turned five and he’s currently going through a “Caption Jack” obsession phase.  Pirates of the CaribbeanWe own the entire collection and watching it on an endless loop is just fine with me thankyouverymuch.  So what did I do for his birthday??  I hosed my house down in every piece of pirate-related shit I could find at the party store.  Cake? Pirate.  Decorations?  Pirate.  Goody bags? Pirates Pirates.  Stuff inside goody bags??  Pirate, pirate, pirate.

In short, I went crazy.  And I loved every second of it.

So bring it on mommies!!  Own it! Go crazy with your bad selves.  I think we should all loudly and proudly celebrate the day we extracted those little humans from our internal organs.

Just remember to recycle because after all is said and done, you do NOT want that shit hanging around your house.

So, I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get my hands on some more damn cheap, plastic pirate crap and arrange them in perfectly shaped little pirate piles on my dining room table.  That shit is going to look so festive!  I’m about to head to the party store right now to find more pirate-themed container fuckers, dust them off, and jam those with an insanely ornate assortment of gold doubloons.  When my guests come over, it’s going to be all like, BLAMMO!!  Check out my crazy assortment of gold doubloons, bitches!  Guess what holiday it is – my kid’s fucking birthday, that’s what.  There’s a party in the air and my house is full of cheap plastic shit.

© Two too smart, smartass mommies 2011