i know i’ve said it before – twice actually, after the past two birthdays – that i wouldn’t plan anymore parties, but… it would seem that i have a sick addiction to it. coupled with my masochistic tendencies, the birthday party monster reared its ugly head yet again for the third year.
(they tried to make me go to rehab, but i said no, no, no…)
so The Plan was to hold a soccer party for the boy at the futsal pitch where his daddy and friends, aka Footsie FC, usually convene for their weekly soccer.
everything was set – barely a few days before the event, seeing how i thrive on deadlines and adrenaline – but, as the scottish poet robert burns wrote, ‘the best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men, gang aft agley’.
or in other un-cheem language, you can plan swee swee, but something sure go wrong one lah!
i’d naively hoped that it wouldn’t rain, but as nature has proved time and again, december is indeed a month fraught with uncertain weather.
it’d been nice and toasty all week, so my heart sank when i woke up to a wet and chilly sunday morning. don’t worry, it’ll clear up, the ever-optimistic husband said, looking up at the grey heavens.
an hour before the party, the clouds still refused to budge and continued to relentlessly drizzle its contents, literally taking the piss out of the harried party organiser underneath.
so an executive decision was made for a change in venue, caterer and guests redirected, and well… we ended up at the same, boring ol’ multipurpose hall nearby. there goes the photo ops with a nice backdrop and change in scenery for my – err, i mean, his party!
and of course, soon after the call was made and guests streamed in, the sun sneaked peeks behind its cumulus curtains. yeah, play games with my heart, why doncha.
anyway, i’d engaged Socatots to organise the games and activities for the kids, in line with the soccer theme (i’m big on themes, if you haven’t noticed), and i think that was definitely fun, especially watching the little ones follow instructions from the soccer coaches and run around in a (somewhat) orderly manner. age 3 is great for these things, and i think, my favourite age.
the Team
boys with balls
cake!
sing-along
“i loves mummy, i loves daddy, i loves baby auni” – aniq
stuffing the poor baby with cake. not that she’s complaining.
so that was that. never mind that we didn’t have a nice sunny romp on the synthetic grasses of the futsal field. we had lovely company, and the kids were happy.
and i shall now head to birthday party rehab.
wait, would it count if i did for auni’s 1st birthday…?
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