We went to our Godson’s second birthday party last weekend.
Or, should I say “Paw-tay”, since it was dog themed, with some really cute details, like serving chips and pretzels in dog food bowls, an adoption plush for the kids, and even dog bone sugar cookies and crayons. None of which I have photos to share because I was preoccupied with the mother of all toothaches. So you’ll just have to take my word on the cuteness.
And what birthday party would be complete without the toddler of the hour being grumpy due to a cold and totally ignoring the adults to run laps with his cousin and the 17 thousand containers of Little Hugs he was
At some point we made the discovery that if we want our Godson’s attention, Ben and I need to bring the dogs and their cages. The only time I could bribe a kiss out of him was when he needed me to open his next Little Hug to
spill down the front of his shirt inhale. Seriously – even trying to coax him with a piece of birthday cake didn’t work!
He was excited to open the huge box that held his BBQ Grill we bought him a couple of weeks ago; so much so that he almost knocked himself out with it. Because what’s better than a sick birthday boy? A sick birthday boy with a self-induced shiner. Boys.
Happy Birthday, Dude!