So here I am, back in the saddle with half the workload and permission to write ridiculous emails. I feel like I should go buy a lottery ticket and keep the lucky train rolling. But I can’t, because I have to start doing the heavy lifting for Max’s birthday party this weekend. So I grab my keys and sprint to the minivan to avoid the freezing rain we are being treated to.
We are having his party at a place called Emerald City Gym. It’s one of those great play-zone places that have all kinds of fun things for the kids to do. The staff sets up and cleans up, so all we have to do is show up. I can’t help but think it must be the worst job ever to wrangle kids at one of these birthday parties. I’m planning on tipping well.
Max has invited all the boys in his class, because “girls are gross” according to Graydon Cobb, who has apparently become the oracle of Miss Ward’s kindergarten class. Whatever pearls come out of his mouth are repeated at dinner tables throughout the greater Kansas City area, including mine.
“Jingle bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg,” Max cheerfully sang one evening. “Graydon made that up. He’s so funny.”
I guess we can add plagiarism to Graydon’s list of talents.
Party City is my first stop this morning to pick up goody-bag crap. If I ruled the world, there would be no such thing as a goody bag. There would be an implied contract between the inviter and the invitee: I give you food and cake and some kind of activity, and you bring me a present. Why do I have to then give you a present? Isn’t that what the party is?
When Vivs and Laura were small, you just gave candy at the end of the party—probably in a clear plastic bag with a ribbon … maybe. These days the gift bag is just that, a gift, and it’s supposed to be something that is in theme with the rest of the party. The pressure is crippling, I tell you.
Max’s theme this year is ninja warriors, so as I walk the aisles of the store I keep that in mind. Little did I know that the ninjas have a whole aisle to themselves. Banzai! This party is practically going to plan itself. I pick up ninja masks and figurines and fake swords for the gift bags, along with two ninja pi?atas, plus cups, tablecloths, plates, and napkins.
After I pay and load my bags in the back of the minivan, I check my phone for emails and messages and I am surprised to see ten replies to the class email I sent out an hour ago. As usual, Sasha Lewicki’s out-of-office reply leads the pack. Is that woman ever in the office? I guess she’s at home taking care of her sick daughter. At least, I hope she is. Thank goodness every other reply is from an actual human.
* * *
To: JDixon
From SCobb
Date: 3/5
Subject: I’m back, babies!
Jennifer,
I just googled charoset and it has nuts in it! Are you trying to kill my son?
I will bring fruit for Graydon.
Shirleen
To: SCobb
From JDixon
Date: 3/5
Subject: I’m back, babies!
Shirleen,
Please, this is not my first trip to the rodeo. The charoset recipe Jill is using has no nuts.
Jen
To: JDixon
From CAlexander
Date: 3/5
Subject: I’m back, babies!
Welcome back, Jen!
You can put all the eggs in our basket (get it?).
Also, Kim can do the book fair. What time should she be there?
Thanks,
Carol
To: JDixon
From RBrown
Date: 3/5
Subject: I’m back,babies!
Jen,
I hope this isn’t a joke and you are really back. I’m so excited!
We can bring eggs for everyone. Also Zach is really excited about Max’s party on Saturday.
See you then!
Ravi
To: JDixon
From DBurgess
Date: 3/5
Re: I’m back, babies!
Hey, Jen,
Way to go, getting your old job back . You’ll have to fill me in. You know, a man could die of thirst trying to get a cup of coffee out of you. Just sayin’ …
BTW, Lulu will bring in eggs for everyone.
Cheers,
Don
* * *
Poor Don—he must be so confused. After a five-month bout of flirty texting, I have pulled way back. He still texts about once a week, trying to meet up, but I’m either make-believe busy or actually busy—truthfully, more the latter than the former. I may never know what he really meant by “coffee,” but I’m okay with that.
* * *
To: JDixon
From JJ Aikens
Date: 3/5
Subject: I’m back, babies!
Jen,
Well, this is quite a turn of events. I guess I should say welcome back, but I think you know it would be insincere. So I’ll just say we will bring eggs for everyone to decorate.
JJ
* * *
Oh, mother of God. Am I being punked? I scroll through the other emails to find that yup, everyone wants to bring eggs. What are the chances? I definitely need to think of a better system. I peck out an email on my phone.
* * *
To: Miss Ward’s Class
From: JDixon
Date: 3/5
Subject: Egg-cellent response!
Me again,
Thanks for the great and may I say timely responses! Shirleen, your charming email came in second place after Sasha Lewicki’s out-of-office reply, with a winning time of 58 seconds. Well done.
It may surprise you to know that just about everyone offered to bring eggs. I guess the yolk’s on me! Since we don’t need 10 dozen eggs, I’m going to assign some of you other things to bring. See the list below, and thanks again for getting back to me so quickly.
Eggs—Alexanders, Burgess/Gordon (two dozen each, please—hard-boiled) Stickers—Aikens Family
Cups—Westmans
Apples—Browns
Grape juice—Kaplans
Water—Changs
Fruit—Cobbs
Cinnamon—Zalises
Wet wipes—Wolffes
And the Batons will bring wine.
Please bring all supplies on the morning of April 4 when you drop your kids off. I know, I know, it’s a month away. I’ll send a reminder email a few days before.
As for the book fair, thanks to Kim Alexander and Peetsa Tucci for volunteering. Is there anyone else dying to straighten up books for 3 hours? No? Okay. Guess it’s on me, then.
Jen
* * *
*
After I drop the party supplies at Emerald City Gym, I stop by the Upper Crust bakery to give them the good news that I will need a ninja cake that feeds twenty. Not a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cake, a real ninja cake. I think I have a 50/50 chance of actually getting the right cake.
My cell phone rings as I run to the minivan. The rain has stopped, but the temperature is now below freezing so I nearly wipe out on the icy tarmac as I yank open the car door. I sit down and grab my cell from my purse.
“Hello,” I say, a bit too loudly.
“Jen, it’s Asami. Do you have time to meet me for coffee?”
“Anything wrong?”
“No, I just want to talk to you about something.”
“Is it about the class email? Because if you don’t want to bring water, I can bring it.”
“No, water is fine. Do you have time to meet or not?”
Now, that’s the Asami I know and love. I look at the clock on my dashboard and calculate how much I still have left to do before I pick up Max.
“How about two o’clock at Starbucks by school?” I can’t imagine why she needs to see me, but whatever it is can’t take more than half an hour.
“See you there.” She hangs up before I can say anything.
*