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the Pizza Parlor. The disadvantage is having to feed the ten kids, and the parents who

hang around. Last year, the pizza and pop together with the Lion King napkins, party
hats, party bags—and trinkets for inside the bags: pencils, bracelets, candies, stick-
ers,...and the I-don’t-know-what-that-cost all the money came, all told, to a hundred
bucks. Happy Birthday, Your three!

This year, they’re four, and I’m a year older as well. (I’m not going to tell you how old; if
you want to know, just ask on e of my kids.) After last year’s experience, I thought we’d
try a little party here at home. Sunday two to four are the magic hours for the preschool

party held at home— at 1:45 Minivans arrive in the driveway: the doors slide open and
children glide fresh faced, neck ties and party dresses in, in to make their hat. Some
would as soon leave as they came but the mothers leave and the kids remain to part
with the presents, explore the hosts' room, play a little duck duck goose before getting
into the sugar.

I provided all the candy they could eat. Chocolate cake with lots of frosting cooled to
the consistency of marshmallow. Each kid got a sizable slab and some soda pop to wash

it down. As these simple sugars were beginning to hit the blood, we went outside to
break the piñata. Smallest to largest, the birthday girl and then the birthday boy each
got their swing, before we worked our way through the guests. We weren’t far when
little Tanya fulfilled her sacred trust as the one with the baseball bat and busted a don-
key leg. Taffies and chocolates spilled out into the grass and the children scrambles to
get his or hers, but there was plenty to go around. —plenty in the donkeys remaining

limbs, more in his head and still more coming.

I began to sense my insanity when we came in to open the gifts. Now children are great;
once they’ve figured they’re host or guest, they settle in to open or present packages
appearing equally happy to do either, especially when their mouth’s been stuffed with
candy. It seemed to me, that two presents called for twice as much party: at a twin par-
ty there are two kids with a pile of gifts and the eight interested observers. So, between
presenting their package, or tearing open the same, with impressive dexterity they un-

wrapped their taffies, their shrink wrapped candies and jammed a little more into their
mouths. They had entered that ferocious sense of occasion, I was there to impart.

The gifts torn open, and closure dawning, we returned to the yard to be seen at a ges-
ture of burn off. They tried the butterfly nets, the badminton set, the whistling football,
foxtail, and boomerang, but it was only a moment before the minivans appeared in the