Here’s what I remember from my birthday parties when I was a kid. My mother would invite about 45 kids to our house. Maybe it was 25, I don’t know, but there were a lot of kids. I’m not sure where she found all of them, because they couldn’t have all been my friends, but my mother is well-known for inclusive entertaining. I’m sure if it was feasible, she would’ve instead held a block party. I’m not being critical, just saying, she likes to have people over, and she’s still that way. For instance, a few days before Thanksgiving, which I usually host, she will call me and say, "Would you mind inviting these 12 other people to dinner? You don’t know them, but you met them once when you were 4, they came to your birthday party…" And sometimes I say no, because even though I like to entertain also, I’m not as nice as my mother.
At my birthday parties, we would play musical chairs and Pin the Tail on the Donkey, and Telephone. (Remember that? Why don’t we play that anymore?) Once, there was a clown magician who found quarters behind everyone’s ears. When it was time to eat, my mother would have made an actual meal, like spaghetti and meatballs. All the kids would sit at the table and eat it without complaint (imagine!), and then there would be cake, and we’d have the ice cream that came in those individual cups with lids. And one thing I’m happy to not see at parties anymore—the birthday child would always open the gifts in front of the guests. I remember this being a problem when I was attending parties, because there was always some kid who gave a really expensive gift, like a Holly Hobby doll or a Barbie motor home, while I knew there was a book in the package that I brought. Of course, if it was my birthday, and no one gave me a book, I would cry. I mean, I think I waited for my friends to go home first. But I guess not everyone was like that.
What amazes me now is that my parents would have all these little kids in the house and have to figure out how to keep them busy for two hours. Somehow it was never a problem. But these days, if you blindfold a child, spin him around, and give him a sharp pointy object to walk around the room with, you better get signed releases from the parents first. The best party I remember was my friend Carlton’s pirate party. I think we were seven years old. His mom gave us eye patches and pirate hats and swords, and then sent us out into the neighborhood on a scavenger hunt. We spent the entire party climbing other people’s fences and running through their backyards; there wasn’t a remote possibility of supervision. I don’t even know if we found any of the things on the list of items we were supposed to find. And as you can see, I still remember it fondly.
On the other hand, I also remember the worst party I attended. I was eight years old, and it was a girl’s party. When I arrived, I found out they were going to play “house.” This involved first deciding who would be the mother, the father, the children, and the dog. When I heard what was on the agenda, I ran screaming out the door and didn’t go back. (Perhaps this should have told me something.)
I realize that nowadays there are good, practical reasons why we can’t let 25 little kids loose on the neighborhood with no idea where they’re going and with none of them responsible enough to pay attention to being back on time. But I still lament it. When I was a kid, it was always easy to know when we had to be back, because there were only two times: "light out" and "dark out." You had to be back before it was dark out.
Obviously, kids’ birthday parties have evolved since then. Now it’s more likely that both parents work, and neither one has the time or mental stamina to plan and run a party the way my parents used to do. This is the case in my house as well. So we hire out. Laser tag is a popular option—essentially a game of "good guys and bad guys" run by adults. The kids love it, and it’s easy for the parents. But there’s something depressing to me about a parent-run fantasy game. I’ve noticed that kids are a lot older now than they used to be before they learn how to effectively organize themselves into a game without adult interference. However, if the alternative to laser tag is to invite 20 kids over, give them toy guns, and tell them to fend for themselves for two hours, I might be a little worried about what it would do to my house. (And for those of you who don’t have boys in your house, in case the idea of toy guns is alarming—please know that if you give a boy a ball of Silly Putty, a pile of Legos, a cardboard box, a bowl of mashed potatoes, whatever, he will make a gun, and that’s the way it is.) I just held a party at a bowling alley, and I was very pleased about it. Although it was funny when the electronic display was running a continuous-feed "Happy Birthday" message to my 10-year-old underneath an ad for mojitos.
So, while I understand that our day-to-day reality often makes it necessary for us to do birthdays this way, I miss the spontaneous stuff that happens when the kids are left to themselves. One of my kids has held sleepover parties with as many as a dozen boys. The first time, when he was 11 years old, the kids were in charge of organizing most of their activities. The adults were only there to make sure nothing got out of hand. The kids ended up playing tag outside late at night (sorry, neighbors!), and they stayed up until 3 a.m. playing poker. Interestingly, all of these kids were musicians, and during the poker games, they would get up spontaneously and play the piano. One even brought his violin. After the party, a number of the kids went home and asked their parents for poker chips. See what happens when they’re left to their own devices? Now that they know how to play cards, for the next birthday party they can focus on some old-fashioned swearing and spitting. On the other hand, maybe laser tag would be a good idea…
For more from Paula Whyman, see www.paulawhyman.com and her online parody newspaper www.bethesdaworldnews.com.
