The other night, we went across the street to celebrate the birthday of our dear friend Ann. Party hats were in the offing, as were those things you blow into at parties. I do not remember what they are called. Mercifully, these were not equipped with noisemakers. If they had been, all of us would now be deaf, given the enthusiasm and persistence with which young August practiced his new favorite trick.
As I’m sure you know, no birthday party is complete without a pinata.
I think it took 700 hits with a plastic golf club, but eventually the candy was released.
What you might not know is that the rear end of a ruptured pinata makes an excellent hat.
But not nearly as excellent as six party hats worn simultaneously.
Or seven, for that matter.
Eventually, the silliness ended, and we gathered for cake and candle blowing.
Ann is turning 28 this year. Be sure to wish her well if you happen to see her.
