Friday, November 14, 2008

Bonfire Party

Here is recipe for certain, unrefined chaos: take about twenty third graders to the beach, at night, hype them up on sugar and carbs, then give them fire. My beloved bride couldn't even stomach the THOUGHT of it. So she sent me along to protect Liam from inflammation or decapitation.

It was supposed to be a birthday party. Turned out to be quite the event. Most of Liam's class. A couple of siblings. Very few parents. Dark waves lapping at the sand. A fire leaping taller than any of the children dancing around it. High pitched squeel of girls. Bow Head following in Liam's every footstep. Hotdogs. Burgers. Delicious home-made chili. Smores. Or, would-be-smores, but mainly marshmallows getting broiled in the fire. Two hours of seething moshery with everyone running and screaming in every direction. I laughed all night.

In the end, we sang happy birthday. And the lucky girl decided to decorate her face with her cake. Smeared it around like war paint.

The kids thought it was brilliant. The parents cringed. When did we trade our bright glowing souls for these boring, ragged things we have as adults.

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