In all honesty, I may actually not manage to get up again this evening and that's not, sadly, due to over indulgence. More for the fact that I have spent the whole day preparing Little Miss Beehive's faerie kingdom birthday party which, for the most part this morning, involved ensuring the house was clean - so scrubbity scrub scrub. I felt more like Cinders than Tinkerbell!
Two hours with twelve children - I can cope with that! Well, that was what I said back in September! I thought, to my detriment, that having Master Beehive the younger as my son, would prepare me for any level of noise and giddiness.
Oh!
How
I
was
W . R . O N . G
My eardrums are currently still ringing and the speed in which these small pseudo faeries can move around a house, wands raised at adult eye level, ready to whip out the closest adult's sight forever more - or if that doesn't work, then those evil wings on the back will smack you hard in the belly each time you so much as dare to pass by with a bowl of jelly and ice cream!
I thought boys were grim with leaving seats up and peeing wherever they manage to hit rather than aiming straight, but no - sugar and spice are just to soften the blow - think salt and vindaloo and you'll be close. Don't even talk about pooh - pooh can be fitted into little girl sentences with even more frequency and high pitched screeches of laughter than it can with little boys!
Then there's the kiss chase!
If there is a boy in the house to kiss - then the poor bugger needs to run for his life as soon as the first car pulls up the driveway. So, at one point I had Master Beehive the younger being a good sport and being chased by a rather enthusiastic kissing machine in a red party frock and a pair of crumpled wings; Master Beehive the elder retiring to whichever corner of the house he can find solace in somewhat of a sulk (not sure if it was due to not being kissed or having been on the receiving end of a smacker); at least six girls telling ever so gruesome "Tales from the U-bend" in full glorified details; a birthday zhuzhu hamster charging around making dubious noises that sound rather like a fart or that it's just ended up under the foot of Mr Beehive and myself try to regain control and carry plates of sandwiches; the poor dog is in the kitchen whining because she doesn't know where to put herself - her safety net, my legs, keep leaving her in the kitchen with a handful of over enthusiastic future veterinarians who are not quite of the understanding that crawling and chasing her around the kitchen, squealing her name loudly like a lobster exhaling it's last, won't actually encourage her to come to them.
Still, we all survived - no juice was spilt, nor vomit spewed forth. There were no tears or breakages. We had pleases, thank yous and the turning down of some sweet or chocolate goodies! So, the makings of a great party and the party girl had fun, so the objective was reached!
So here are some pictures of the party.
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