January 14, 2009
My daughter's birthday is at the end of the month and we have begun to discuss party ideas.
"I want a Hannah Montana party," she announced the other day.
"What does one do at that kind of party?" I wanted to know.
My five-going-on-fifteen year-old looked at me like I was a single-celled organism.
"I'm going to dress up as Hannah Montana and sing songs," she explained to the clueless, "And my friends can be the audience."
"That sounds fun," I replied, "Especially for your friends. Do you have any other ideas?"
"How about a High School Musical party?" she proposed.
"Let me guess," I said, "You'll be Gabriella and your guests will be Sharpay."
"The audience," she corrected.
"Let's pick a theme that doesn't involve a t.v. show or a movie," I said in a furtive attempt to avoid imminent disaster. My argument seemed reasonable enough: not everyone, including my daughter, has seen Hannah Montana or knows any of her songs.
After I ruined my daughter's life a little more by turning down her request for a Suite Life of Zack and Cody party (another show she's never seen but heard about from her friends at school), she decided that a "pet party" sounded kind of fun.
Visions of dinners served in dog bowls and pooper scooper relays danced in my head.
"I LOVE IT!" I shouted a little too enthusiastically. My daughter's face contorted into the likeness of a Doberman Pincher.
"Yuck!" I corrected. "Pet parties are no fun. Definitely a no-go."
That pretty much sealed the deal. I left the birthday girl standing in the kitchen while I rushed off to print a set of dancing dog invitations from the Internet before Hannah could break in for an encore performance.