The hairy chest is one detail too many, and while the gingham zipper rocks pretty damn hard, the tie-and-V-neck combination is just plain wrong. Then there's the part where he has no arms.
I know what you're thinking: "For fuck's sake - Karen's pushing kid art on us again?"
Wrong. You're looking at a soldier in the war against fat, and I made him.
I can't say as I've ever made a paper sack puppet in my life (or, if I have, I don't remember), but today, I had no choice. I was desperate. I was afraid.
I was hungry.
What happened was this. I've become close to one of the families whose kids I tutor, and their youngest turned five today. Now, when I was little, a birthday party meant your friends came over and you played games in the yard and then there was a cake and presents and everyone went home.
Today's birthday parties are far more complicated affairs. This one was at the Kidspace Children's Museum, an interactive educational spot where kids can dig for fossils, create earthquakes in a "Shake Zone," and climb these cool raindrop things. (Did I want to play on all the kid-sized stuff? You know I did.)
In a separate room sat the presents ... and the cake. Not just any cake, mind you, but my absolute favorite: white with white icing (don't even think about making fun of me for it). Granted, they can be disgusting if they're dry and yucky, but this cake had come from one of the best cakeries (is that a word?) in Los Angeles. It was a work of art. And, as if to further tempt me, Curious George could be seen swinging across the surface.
I love Curious George.
When the time finally came for the cake to be cut and served, I panicked. I looked around the room ... and saw salvation in the form of the arts and crafts table. There was only one kid sitting there, a 6-year-old girl who was almost finished with a paper sack puppet dog. I sat down across from her and got to work.
For the next twenty minutes, while everyone ate cake, I made a puppet. I'm not sure at which point my creation turned into a hairy-chested old man with bad fashion sense, but I guess what I made wasn't really the point.
The point was what I didn't eat. The war will continue, but in this battle, at least, I emerged victorious.
* And, in other Birthday Party news:
I was driving home from Pasadena when I noticed a party taking place in my part of the 'hood (on the next street, no less). It was just as big a deal as the one I'd just been to, but employed a slightly different approach.
Was I tempted to pet the blue-hoofed horsies and jump in the funhouse thingie?
You know I was.
4 comments:
Your post was cake for my morning. Thanks.
M
two things:
1) what I noticed about the picture of the barrio party was the $100 jeans not the blue hoofs - I think we should just NOTICE that and
2) you know you are really on a diet when you dont eat the birthday cake i mean COME ON it was white on white, it was the cake of cakes - I mean I eat the donuts in the corporate lunch room for the lame reason of it being Friday - thats all the excuse I need thank you very much.
Seriously, kudos to you - youve made it to the diet zone. Now eat a No Pudge Brownie you deserve it.
and just for the record - that Maggie can eat her heart out as she contemplates life with Hubby - you are looking so hot these days....
you can eat my white sugar anytime, summertime
That rocks. You deserve the most genuine and heartfelt of pats on the back, because that would be HARD for me or anyone to do. (of course, my downfall would be chocolate on chocolate, rather than white on white, but still..we all have our tasty-looking demons.)
ESM
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