We went to a birthday party last weekend. It was lovely and you two behaved like gems. Considering this was our first interaction with new neighbors I could not have been more grateful that you guys toed the line.
Here’s the thing: there were a solid 9 little girls there and every last one of them was the same height with long, brunette hair. I could not tell them a part to save my life. I couldn’t even point out the birthday girl with any accuracy! Thank God you have blond hair, Kitten, or I may have taken the wrong child home.
It did not help that the birthday girl changed her clothes THREE TIMES. She greeted us at the door in a party dress, then ten minutes later she and four other little girls came down stairs in princess dresses, then fifteen minutes later they were all in shorts and t-shirts. That’s not fair, right?
Kitten, you didn’t even bother learning their names; you just called them all ‘friend’, which was a brilliant move, actually.
We had to leave early and I didn’t know what to do. You have to say goodbye to the birthday girl, right? How would I pick her out of the giggling brunette sea? And then cake was called. Score! Saved by birthday tradition!
I stared down the birthday girl while she blew out the candles and seared her face in to my brain…ok, I just noted what shirt she was wearing. Ten minutes later I located her, pushed Kitten in her direction, and the goodbye was executed.
We left the party with goodie bags and a firm step in the right direction for future neighborhood shenanigans. How could we not be friends with them? Their play set has THREE SLIDES! For real.