Another year older and deeper in…

No, not ME. My youngest grandchild turned one this week, and we went to her house for a cookout and birthday party. The food was yummy, standard cookout fare, well- prepared, and my daughter made enough to feed an army. (Well, she really made enough to feed the kids for dinner too, so she didn’t have to cook during the Steelers game. Go Browns!)

The hors d’oeuvres that were dill pickles swathed in cream cheese and corned beef? A little odd, but strangely compelling.

The kids found a number of other kids to play with. One of the other families also has an Aspie, and he and the Captain spent some time talking at each other while the other boys ran and played and shot hoops. Little Miss found a quiet corner and avoided most of the commotion. That’s where the ‘deeper’ part comes in. The deep part was more oriented toward the birthday party entertainment, which was one of my other granddaughters, age 9, and her well-spoiled best friend with their microphone and speakers and guitar with name emblazoned thereon.

Now, I would think if you were the proud possessor of a microphone and speakers set-up and a guitar with your name on it, that you would have put some time and effort into the practice of singing and playing. When the girls announced the imminent musical set, I had the conception that they would be delightfully awkward imitations of Hannah Montana and her ilk.

Well, bless them, they had the awkward down. Turns out that neither of them can play a chord on the guitar, but they can play loud. And sing…loud. In some key. Sometimes several in the same song. They offered some original songs that seemed to be about lost loves and broken hearts (at 9???) and also one about “My Family” that hit many sentimental notes. Then they segued into some Jonas Brothers covers.

The adoring family members and stalwart friends who watched the set broke into thunderous applause when cake was announced, delaying the rest of the program.

The birthday girl cooed and whooped over each bright piece of tissue paper and discarded what was inside. She had her own small cake, stuck her hand in the icing and immediately begged someone to get the dirt off her hands, foiling every attempt to get her to eat the cake until someone delicately fed it to her on a spoon.  Good for her.  Learn to wrap the world around your finger at an early age, kiddo. With the singing duo and the other divas ahead of you, it’s something to be queen for a day.

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5 thoughts on “Another year older and deeper in…

  1. Since having kids, I’ve decided the 2nd birthday should be the big cake bash. Neither of my girls cared about the cake at age 1.

    The description of the “musicians” makes me think of “Pride and Prejudice” when Mr. Bennet tells Mary that she has “delighted us long enough.”

    And I’ve had a similar pickle-thing somewhere, and thought it was odd, but yes, strangely good. And left me wanting more. Must have been all the salt and vinegar.

  2. one thing that i miss in my empty nest? band practice… my daughter’s band played in my family room for a couple years. they started off rough, but i could hear them get better! the “Diva’s” need to keep working on the music – there’s nothing more fun than being in an all girl rock band when you’re in 7th grade!

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