I went to my niece's fourth birthday party yesterday, super-excited about the present I had been working all week on for her. It is a fairy kit, for all her fairy needs:
- a fairy playlist CD
- edible fairy toadstools
- cornflower seeds and a little pot to plant them in, to attract the cornflower fairy
- a book: "Flower Fairies of the Garden", so she can learn more about the types of fairies that will visit
- a wand. Of course.
- colouring in pages and stickers
- pink fairy dust, a miniature fairy bell, and fairy bubbles, to attract fairies
- a fairy tea set with which to welcome the fairies (in the tiny little white and pink box)
- a fairy purse.
- and finally a little book, a guide to this fairy kit.
I did go a little overboard, I have to admit. But I had so much fun. I also remembered to get a few fairy accessories for Niece-Aged-2 who understandably does not cope well with her big sister getting all the presents.
Anyway, the party was fun and included a princess bouncy castle. Niece-Now-Aged-4 loved the fairy kit but it was possibly upstaged by a Cinderella Disney Princess Barbie! The children ran around with that look of utter happiness which characterises small children's birthday parties. It was lovely.
It happened to be my birthday yesterday too. So I went straight from the four-year-old birthday party to a twenty-four-year-old birthday dinner at the Dux de Lux. It was really great and I was especially happy because a bunch of people from different areas of my life came along - old friends, university friends, church friends, etc. After dinner some of us traipsed back to our flat and I was surprised to find our living room full of 100 balloons!
Needless to say, the twenty-four-year-old birthday party soon became extremely similar to the four-year-old party. Looks of seraphic happiness, balloons flying through the air and eventually rubbed on hair and stuck to the ceiling. What is it about balloons that is so inducive of childish happiness?!