One of the joys of being a large family is that we have the opportunity to participate in many different birthday parties over the year. There are slumber parties, pirate parties, pool parties, rock-climbing adventures, bowling outings, and Chuck E. Cheese extravaganzas, to name a few. I keep telling the children to stop making friends with kids who have birthdays, but they just laugh. “Silly Mom,” chuckles Sarah. “All the kids we know have birthdays!” It is never a good sign when you are out-witted by your five-year-old.
Ready for the Party to begin!
This week Daniel, David and Sarah were invited to a Garden Party. How delightfully appropriate for this time of year, when Spring is in the air. At least it is here in WA. In Michigan, where my parents and siblings live, it is snowy and cold and there is not a single HINT of spring. Poor dears!
The children painted and decorated their clay pots, and then planted a flower in each one. Several of them even managed to plant the root part downward.
These girls are ready to paint, and they’re not choosy about what they paint!
They have been caring, tenderly, for their plants since they brought them home to live with us. As I am notorious for having a black thumb, able to kill even the hardiest plants, their flowers will only survive if I stay far away from them.
This morning, Daniel and Tim left the house on an errand. I can just imagine how their conversation went. “Maybe I should bring my plant with me,” Daniel worried. “What if Mom tries to water it or something, and kills it dead!”
“It’ll be fine. Mom’s not even going to be home,” Tim soothed. “She’s going to Costco, and you know that’ll take most of the morning.”
“Yeah, but what if she comes home early? It’s just a baby plant, and hasn’t even flowered yet!” Daniel is very attached to his plant.
Tim must’ve convinced him, because they left the plant at home. I carefully avoided being in the same room as it, lest it keel over and I be blamed.
Poor plant, it will never look this good again.
We can only hope they make it.
Kathy
