So, yesterday was my birthday party.
Being that I am not usually a fan of birthday parties, I usually try to avoid them like the plague, get guilted into doing something last minute, tell people far too late for them to actually be free, and have no one show up. This year, for whatever reason, I actually gave people a month's notice. How responsible of me.
I also decided, as I usually do, that I needed to do something to make it worth the trip for my guests. I know, I shouldn't think that people need more than the allure of my company to attend but I do. So, I hired a bouncy castle.
Yes, you heard me correctly.
At 8am yesterday morning, the bouncy castle guys showed up with a bit of machinery and a roll of heavy duty plastic. By 8:30, I had a backyard filled with bouncy castle. The compulsion to spend the rest of the morning just sitting in it for the heck of it was strong, but I had other things still to prepare before my guests arrived. I certainly didn't think they would appreciate an un-showered, still in her pj's host simply because I didn't want to leave the bouncy castle.
So, I did the responsible thing and got the house, and myself, ready for the influx of people that I was now sure were going to arrive based on the attractions of the bouncy castle that I was already so strongly feeling.
The time came. Guests arrived. Food was eaten and bouncing was done. Small children were hurled at the castle walls by their father. Large children (adults) tried to bounce each other around. The castle's drawbridge was the communal resting place. And for once, people gathered outside and not in the kitchen. Mingling happened. The day was a success.
Until the shining knights that had been the bearers of all things wondrous returned. This time, in a new guise. They were there to take my bountiful source of camaraderie and joy away.
As the hissing air of the melting structure filled my ears (and one of my guests refused to abandon the structure - even through its obvious demise) I couldn't help but realise... ok, I pouted first, then I realised ... what a better demonstration of being an adult than having the luxury to choose when to act like a child.