Right now I am sitting by myself at a sports complex while my sister and a friend play minigolf. I brought a book, Writing Down the Bones, to occupy myself, but I can’t stop watching this birthday party at the picnic table by mine. It’s kind of making me realize that childhood birthday parties are more for the mom than the offspring. I watched her drape the disposable balloon tablecloth over the table and cut up the pizza while aforementioned child ran out to play with early party goers. She’s probably relieved it’s 87 degrees and sunny. Right now she is just standing, reviewing the fruits of her labor. The presents are organized as a centerpiece. Little does she know that in about 6 years time he will be shouting “SHUT UP MOM YOURE RUINING MY LIFE!!!!!