A few months ago, on the way to a bowling tournament, we were reading – for some reason – the Daily Mail. At which point there was a story that kiddies parties have become a keeping up with the jones’s. Kids are now getting CD’s, DVD’s and Action Men in booty bags, and the parties are running into the thousands with bouncy castle and even z list celebrities being hired. We got talking about it, and how in our days (god we sound old) we’d be happy with a pencil, a monster in my pocket, a piece of cake and a chewit. How, that in our capitalist driven society, we *could* have fun on the cheap.
And so begins reason number 22 to avoid revision.
Yeah, a late night driving trip to Tesco provided the food. Party rings, swiss rolls, mounds of crisps and jam sandwiches.
Incidentally, yes that is my ironing board Of course, it wouldn’t be a kiddie party without some jelly and ice cream.
Whilst we were planning to play some party games, we didn’t get around to it. Instead we just did what any kid does at a kiddie party, get all hyper and dance to some party classics. They were “Agadoo”, “Scatman’s World”, “I am the Music Man”, “Jive Bunny”, “Michael Jackson’s Megamix” and, the all time classic, “Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka Dot Bikini”.
Of course, being the lightweight of the group, the sugar hit me hard, and fast. As these pictures clearly prove: -
Soon I was singing along to the superman song, doing all of the actions, and it has been recorded on film (which, I will not host here, as it looks terrible without the music, honest), before crashing quite spectacularly at around midnight. How I survived sugar rushes as a kid, I have no idea. But a good night was had by all for only Â£2 a head. Â£2! Not a remorgaged house for little Katie’s special 7th birthday in sight! The best thing was we overdid it on paper plates and plastic cutlery, which means no washing up for ages. Result!
We would of paid party games if we didn’t crash, and feel sick. The one suggested was a very rudimentary version of “pin the tail on the donkey”, which was “pin the piece of A4 lined paper onto the arse of Miss February from FHM”. Shame really we didn’t, a condom was the top prize.
You see, that’s what I’m going to miss most about university: the spontinaety (something that I’ve been accused of not having). Random things that seem to escalate into something a lot bigger. The trip to Manchester and Blackpool last week, the painting of a mural to the legendary Karl Vain, “Landing Cricket” (which caused the neighbours to complain) and a variety of other days were worth it, and the memories of them will make the years to follow of living in debt worthwhile.