Obsession

Obsession. I now fully comprehend its meaning: Obsession is a young knight who is about to celebrate his six years.

There are all sorts of questions that need to be asked regarding this event to make sure it will occur on a timely and successfully orchestrated schedule. Starting at one month before, the daily question must be asked of how many days are there left until the said event is going to take place?

About two weeks prior, there is the daily reassurance needed that there will be both cupcakes for everybody in the class (that would be 29) plus the teachers plus a pan of brownies to put the candles in so he can blow them out. Never mind that these questions also happens to coincide with the week of Christmas. Apparently Young Knight wants to have his birthday cake and eat it too. Obsession will not be distracted by any other noteworthy event (where other people get presents too).

The week of, in addition to the questions, there are also the directions. The cupcakes need to be brought to the school in the afternoon because they always celebrate birthdays after lunch. And then clarification is needed for the party. One needs to understand the difference between “actual birthday” and “birthday party.” Apparently one is born on the day that the party is held; any other day is superfluous.

There are the offers to help. Can I crack that egg? I’m good at cracking eggs. Can I blow up these balloons (which translates to slobbering all over, but failing to inflate so that mom has to blow up slimy balloons). Can I frost those cupcakes? (lick, lick).

And then there are the suggestions. “I have a good idea! I can write everyone’s name on a piece of paper and put them around the table so they all know where to sit.” This of course means scraps of paper all over the floor and repeated questions about how to spell this name or that in the midst of last-minute party preparations. (This project is nixed before it begins).

Anything to bring the event about faster. Anything! Anything!

But time, which waits for no man, hurries for no man either. You can wake us up at 7am because you’re excited about a party that starts at 3PM, but you still have to wait eight hours until the party is here.

Oh Young Knight, I so relate. I am the exact same way with my own obsessions, I have just learned how to hide it better over the years. You will too one day (and I will miss your transparency).

Three o’clock has finally arrived.

Cupcakes. Pirate cupcakes, no less.

Visitors. Where everyone eagerly crowds to the door to see who has arrived.

A real live pirate in the flesh

who can turn you and your friends into real live pirates too!

Grrrr.

Games!

where you have to guess things.

Food!

Frenzy!

Ah. A party isn’t a party until someone cries

and someone wears a silly hat.

Happy birthday darling Young Knight!  Only eleven months to go before the obsession begins again.

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