Kids know how to have a good time, and there is nothing like a birthday party furnished with sugar, and the promise of new toys to experience the full height and intensity of that glee. My job is to snap a few photos and otherwise let the shenanigans wash over me rather than foolishly attempt to maintain any semblance of order.
I did as I was told, and our precious cherubs delivered overwhelmingly.
Emma is four now, nearly full-grown compared to when she was merely three. And other than her demonstrated inability to provide even her most basic life-maintaining needs, she can present a convincing argument.
When you get past the noise and confusion, the emotional outbursts, the manic behavior, the unrealistic demands, and the treadmill of irresponsible decisions, the celebration of a child’s life is a heartwarming thing. There was so much happiness, so many deep belly-laughs at the stuff they won’t be doing anymore by next year. It was a day filled with love and memories we will cherish forever.
And so Ana was right, as she often is, and it was the best day ever.