When Cinderella was a skank-ho and we all threw up.

So as you know, Thing 1 turned 17 on Tuesday.

Which got me thinking about a lot of things.

Like how when you have babies everyone - everyone - who is older than you tells you how fast time will fly and you smile and nod but ignore them because you know for a fact there will never be a time when you aren't wiping a tiny butt in every bathroom in every restaurant/park/zoo/theme park/gas station/porta potty in the United States or buying applesauce by the vat or getting woken up 14x every night.

But then you blink.

And suddenly you are the one being ignored by the young mamas.
Whatever.
Listen to me or not, but I'm here to tell you it happens.

The end.



I've also been flipping through the birthdays-of-the-past rolodex in my mind. As your kids get older, there's a whole wheel of cards full of birthday snapshots and memories that flip by one after another...faster and faster until they become a film of birthdays all linked together where your kid grows up way too fast.
And every so often, it will find the most hilarious or disastrous moments and stop.
Here's two of my favorites -


The time a Ho came to the party.
When Thing 1 turned 4 she was obsessed with Cinderella.  We'd just been to Disneyworld and, according to her, Cinderella was the coolest princess ever.  I planned an elaborate Cinderella themed party and hired a Cinderella from a party company to come and tell stories.  When Thing 1 found out that Cinderella herself was coming all the way from Disneyworld (or from downtown Minneapolis) she was absolutely breathless with excitement.
Cut to the day of the party.
House decorated with tulle and pumpkins and glittery shit.
Thing 1 dressed in Cinderella costume with hair in a classic Cinderella updo and a fair dusting of princess makeup on her little face.

Crappy photo quality, but since this was taken in 1999 I had to take a picture of it in the photo album.
Thank god for my scrapbooking phase of the late 90's.

Friends arrive.  Girls get glittery wands, boys get swords and crowns.
Mama looking anxiously at her watch.  Where the hell is Cinderella?
Mama looks out window, sees a disheveled girl with an ill-fitting and wrinkled and torn polyester dress, smoking a cigarette (not really, but since she reeked of cigarette smoke that's how it plays in mind all these years later), tangled and frizzy and ridiculous looking wig askew (where's the goddamned Cinderella UPDO???) clomping up the sidewalk.
Um...excuse me?  Did I call the wrong party company?  Good god! Was she a stripper??
I ran inside and panickledly whispered to Husband that Cinderella was a HO and that he had to do something before Thing 1 caught sight of her and her visions and fantasies of princesses were replaced by skank-ho strippers with bad hair that smelled like smoke.
Husband met the Ho at the door and was like, "WTF are you and where the hell is Cinderella?"
I quickly pulled Thing 1 aside and explained that the real Cinderella got tied up at the castle so she sent her helper to the party instead.  Her Ho Helper.
Thing 1 was skeptical.
And more than a little disgusted.
She gave that Cinderella the stink-eye for about 20 minutes.
This was before the advent of Purell, otherwise that dirty Ho would've been doused from ratty head to dirty toe before being allowed to enter the house.
But the Cinderella-Ho came to the party and painted faces and told a story and granted wishes.
And Husband paid her with $1 bills.

Check it out for yourself.
Am I right or am I right?

After this photo was taken, we burned Thing 1's Cinderella dress.

**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**

The time we went to Disneyworld and everyone puked (and Thing 2 may or may not have infected Jasmine and Aladdin).
For Thing 1's 9th birthday (in 2004) we decided to go to Disneyworld to celebrate (I'm just now realizing most of our disastrous bdays had a Disney theme).
We hadn't been in a few years and because it was her birthday weekend we went all out and bucked up for a room at the Grand Floridian with a view of Cinderella's castle across the lake (the real one, not the Ho).
The night we got there we went to the Halloween party at the Magic Kingdom, dressed in costume, and had a blast.
At about midnight, I woke up to the pleasant sound of a child puking in bed.
Shit.
The next day, poor little Thing 2 was just floored with a stomach virus.  Liquids coming out of her everywhere.  But by the afternoon, she seemed better ('seemed' being a strong word I realized in hindsight), and because we'd all been cooped up we decided to go to Epcot Center.
We put Thing 2 in a stroller (she was 3) where, after puking in the bushes in jolly old England she proceeded to fall into a fast sleep for about 3 hours.
When she woke up she felt great (sidebar - in hindsight we realize we were terrible parents.  Like call CPS kind of parents. She was probably ridiculously dehydrated and obviously still contagious.  But hey, we were in Disneyworld, dammit) and she wanted to see Jasmine and Aladdin.
So we let her.
And I'm quite certain Jasmine and Aladdin called in sick the next day (that never is not funny to me, btw).
Cut to that evening.
Thing 1 starts complaining of a stomach ache.
Cut to that night.
Thing 1 losing fluids rapidly.
Thing 2 feeling fantastic and bouncing around the room!
Cut to the next day.
Thing 1 cannot even keep a sip of the $6 a can Sprite from the mini-bar down so Husband stays with her in the million dollar a night room while I take Thing 2 to the Magic Kingdom.  Hey, at least he had a view of the castle.
Cut to later that night.
Thing 1 feeling much, much better!
Mama's tummy beginning to rumble.
Shit. Again.
Next day - Thing 1's 9th birthday.  I will not be sick.  I will not be sick.
After an entire night of losing most of the fluids from my body and one time when I may or may not have puked in the bathtub, I rallied.
Weak and shaky, I was determined to celebrate with her at MGM Studios, so despite my better judgement and my dehydrated body, I put on a smile and hit the park.
And then I passed out at the Beauty and the Beast show.
Nothing says "Happy Birthday" like seeing your mama wheeled through a Disney theme park to the First Aid Station.
This is where you expect me to say, "Okay, I'm totally lying...", but kids, I am NOT.
The next day we had to fly home.
Guess who started getting sick on the plane?
I'll give you a hint.
It was Husband.

*2004*
Just arrived! Everyone is healthy!
Let the birthday weekend celebrating begin!!!

First night! Having a blast! Thing 2 eats a hot dog and a lot of fries on the way out of the park,
which in hindsight was a really, really bad idea.

Infecting Jasmine.

Thing 2 gets to enjoy Belle and the Magic Kingdom while Thing 1 is in a fetal position back at the hotel.

Probably about 5 lbs. lighter...but feeling better!
It was seriously right after I took this photo that my stomach started rumbling.

Thing 1's 9th birthday.
Girls looking surprisingly alert and sturdy considering all the fluids they've lost in the past 2 days.
(I obviously took this pre-pass out.)

I wish that Daddy doesn't get sick.
BAHAHAHAHAHAHA

...and because this still cracks me up, here Thing 2 is a few years later, recreating her puking episode at Epcot (next to the very bushes she puked on in '04).  

Good times...good times...