Thing 1 is 9

Because of her birthday I had to write a quick bit about Thing 1 for church. Some of these went straight from Hubby's lips onto my keyboard.

Thing 1’s favorite color is lime green.
She loves dragons, and drawing, and drawing dragons.
She eats math for breakfast.
If she’s reading a good book or something interesting on the computer, she won’t hear a thing you say.
Thing 1 is NOT pink and frilly. She doesn’t like poofy dresses. In fact, if there is somewhere she is supposed to go that she’s supposed to dress up for, she would rather stay home.
Thing 1 likes raspberries, the kind you eat, not the kind you blow.
Thing 1 loves milk, and Kelso, but not together.
Thing 1 loves cheese pizza, apricots, german pancakes, and hamburgers, but not together.
Thing 1 likes playing on her DS, and on the computer, sometimes together.
She hates clothes that are scratchy or have pokey tags.
Thing 1 makes up her own games if there’s not something around she wants to play. But she does like playing games, especially Sleeping Queens, and Clue.
Her favorite vacation is just about anywhere she’s been, but London, the beach, and all the Disney parks are the first thing she mentions.
Thing 1 loves watching movies with her family, especially at home where you can hit “Pause” and then go get a treat.
Thing 1 loves her family. She is very very close with her sister, and they are great playmates.
Thing 1 is sweet, sincere, and a lot of fun. She has a darling giggle, and a glowing personality.
She is now nine years old.

We had her birthday party as brunch because breakfast is far and away her favorite meal. And even though having cake after breakfast is a little weird, everyone moved right from breakfast to dessert without complaint.
I had forgotten to get the pinata. Even though there were only going to be a couple kids, Thing 1 reminded me that morning that she needed a pinata. I had intended on getting one since Thing 2 had one two months ago for her birthday (we just happened to have one sitting around, long story) but I forgot. Thing 1 is the quiet one who would not say anything, she'd just be a little bit sadder on this day of her celebration, and I wouldn't find out how truly wounded she was and how unfair it is and how she grew up thinking that we like Thing 2 better until after four or five years of therapy. I was out anyway picking up the cake, so I swung by the party store and picked up a pinata.

The pinata was a black dragon, very fitting.


I have never had a pinata that required less than a full on assault with sharp kitchen implements to breach its interior. Those kids could flail on that thing for hours, unblindfolded and without anyone pulling on the string, using a real baseball bat (none of these little wimpy sticks) and the contents would still be safely tucked away in their impenetrable cardboard fortress. This one was no different. After the kids were getting tired, no one cared whose turn it was anymore, and the adults had lost interest and broken off into their various conversations, Hubby attacked the pinata with a pair of scissors. The kids whacked at it some more, and finally a few pieces came out. Eventually Hubby decided he'd loosen it up for them. He took aim and swung a grand-slam home run that would have made Babe Ruth proud, disintegrated the pinata and spread pulverized candy across our back yard. Hubby was stunned, but we got the danged thing open.

Hubby gave Thing 1 a few hitting tips before she gave up and he took over.


My brother kindly risked lighting his hat on fire, using it as a wind block while we kept the candles burning long enough to sing.

It was a very nice day.