Yesterday, at the family Easter extravaganza, certain members of my family and myself have decided to have a joint birthday party in May to celebrate our new decade birthdays:
Mom – 70
Aunt Beth – 60
Me and friend Andi – 50
Cousin V – 40
Son – 20 We don’t seem to have anyone turning 30, so my 50-something year old uncle has offered to revisit his 30th birthday, How very generous of him. Unfortunately, I think I’ve been assigned the task of organizing the thing, which could be really bad since I’m not so good at planning stuff. However, the pressure’s on, so my drive to perform well will get me through this. I’m pretty sure.The real dilemma is what to call it. I’m all for calling it the Big O Party but my mother was a little uncomfortable with that because she thinks people will mistake it for an orgy. I don’t think Big Zero Party sounds exactly right either. Maybe “New Decade Birthday” will work, but I’ll probably go with Big O Party just to piss my mother off, which is always a fun past-time for me.
None of is too happy with our new decade, by the way, especially my mom and my aunt. We all spent some time reassuring the one below us in age that the upcoming decade will be Just Great! Poor mother has no one to tell her that her 70s are going to be OK, though, as the only people older than her in our family are already dead. She says it’s hell being the oldest, which I can attest to as I’m the oldest of my generation also. This meant I ended up babysitting for all my cousins at one time or another. I’m afraid I wasn’t a good sitter, as I was more interested in listening to records and talking on the phone than I was in actually feeding them or supervising their activities. I literally have no memory of actually doing anything babysitter-ish WITH ANY OF THEM, which has kind of bothered me over the years and is probably the reason I rarely asked anyone other than my son’s grandparents to babysit him.
Anyway, I’m assuming no permanent damage has been done. About about 90% of my cousins have been divorced but I’m pretty sure that can’t possibly be the result of my lackluster babysitting skills. And nobody died or was seriously injured during my babysitting tenures, but hell, they could have been back in their rooms smoking crack and making pipe bombs, for all I knew. Luckily, they all grew up to be responsible adults, one of whom has just turned 40.
Let the celebrations begin!