Last week, my first baby bird turned eight. I could go on and on about how quickly they grow up, but, you know. I blinked and he is eight. If I blink again, he will be sixteen. Blink a few more times, and he will be throwing me in a home. Except he promised he wouldn’t. He is a good boy.

Not so sure about G. The other day we were discussing the situation over chips and guacamole. (It’s really never too early to guilt trip your kids.)

Me: … just don’t send me to a nursing home.

Wells: I won’t. But you know Graham will.

Graham: What? I’m not gonna wipe your butt.

He saw that I felt deeply betrayed, and threw in that I was welcome to stay if I could wipe my own butt. Not sure how he knows that’s a possibility, but at least I know where we stand.

So anyway, Wells wanted to have a camp out for his party. I thought it was a good idea but after careful consideration decided against it. (Someone would have to stay up all night and police the situation. There were no volunteers.) Instead, we talked him into an outdoor movie party. It was easy, and I think the kids really enjoyed it.

We had hot dogs, chips and cookie cake. And a few extra goodies for the grown ups.

A little Rocket Balloon action while we waited for it to get dark enough to show the movie…

(Thanks Roxanne!)

I borrowed a projector and ordered the screen from Amazon. It was super easy to assemble, but we still haven’t gotten it back into the handy carrying case. Not sure we ever will. We showed the movie 8 mile because I like a good theme.

Not really. They watched The Nut Job. Speaking of, you would think that we’d steer clear of outdoor events given our rain stained marriage certificate. Thankfully, the storms held off and it was a beautiful night.

During the movie, we passed out popcorn and candy bars. And then the kids passed out from high blood sugar.

No really…

Post movie rave…

Annnnd just in case they weren’t sugared up enough, Wells sent them home with a little treat…

Annnd in case you were wondering if we will ever use that screen again…

We did. Perfect for passing the time between rain showers the following day.

It was a fun party for our fun loving little boy. Eight is still considered “little,” right?

RIGHT?

If you need me, I’ll be moping and mopping the floors with my tears. And looking into a long term care policy.