I won't joke around with you. It's Monday and that would just be cruel. I know exactly where I live. God saw me fit to be born in the land of milk 'n honey. And if that weren't bad enough, I chose to live in Scottsdale, Arizona, a land of privilege and sometimes, regrettably, a land of entitlement. I don't need my iced venti soy latte to know that. It's painfully obviously when I go to the bank and try to squeeze my french-fry laden SUV between a double parked Mercedes E-class and a Hummer with shiny chrome bumper big enough to take out a rhinocerous. I don't see many rhinoceros in Scottsdale.
It's been hard for this small town girl to raise reality-based children in this environment. So as Sunny's 16th birthday approached, my heart was sinking. I worried how hard it would be to live up to her celebration expectations. The sushi bar, live-band, new car birthday party just isn't the kind of mama I want to be. Financially it's not even the kind of mama I can be.
Enter Granna. The best Granna ever. She volunteered to be the hostess with the mostest. She planned and shopped, and she and Sunny talked on the phone and Sunny beamed.
Sunny's birthday is Wednesday, but the party was this weekend. There was night swimming and a scary movie and boys of course. I mean where you're 16 what's a party without boys!
And a giggling slumber party for the girls afterwards that didn't get quiet till 5am. Surprisingly, I didn't find any bras in the freezer. There were s'mores and popcorn and soda and balloons.
And my sweet baby girl. My wrinked-up nose, ever so confident, first born.
And no sushi bar.
Now that wasn't so hard was it?