It was a grand party
The glitter stuck to the tiled floor is the only remnant from the party Saturday night, with the exception of several smears of Nutella on the futon cover.
I worried our decision to have the five youngest grandkids spend the night, together, once a month, instead of spreading them out, would end up being more than we could handle. Saturday marked the third party night with the grands, and it’s been a success – that is if you don’t mind 3-, 4- and 5-year-old girls running around screaming and giggling along with two 8-year-old boys who still want to act like crazy kids in between being glued to their electronics.
Fifi came for several visits during the evening, which is why glitter is all over the bathroom floor. For whatever reason, or more importantly, for no good reason, I decided a couple of months ago to pretend I have a twin sister named Fifi (obviously because it rhymes with Gigi). I dress up in a sparkly dress, wear a big floppy hat and talk with my best rendition of being British. Fifi is even crazier than Gigi, and is very loud and enjoys chasing little kids around the house.
I tried talking Papa into transforming himself into his twin, and we could call him Caca. While this cracked me up, he just stared at me like I’d lost my mind and shook his head no. The boys had seen Fifi several times before and, because they’re 8 going on 18, they were unimpressed. The girls however insisted Fifi stay much longer than anticipated, and I’m pretty sure I got a whole week's worth of exercise in one evening.
Any reason to run around in circles, up and down, in and out is a good thing, but when it comes with a crazy woman shouting “I’m going to get you” while trying to hold a floppy hat in place and shouting with a British accent, it’s great, that is, if you’re under 6.
For dinner I made menus from Fifi’s Fabulous Food and the boys helped the girls check what they wanted from the go-to kids food list. Peanut butter and jelly, chicken nuggets, mac and cheese, Nutella sandwiches, veggie straws, applesauce, and none of these were on Papa’s radar, so he requested a cheeseburger.
I still have it, I thought to myself, while juggling cooking dinner, being Fifi, trying to keep the dog from tearing off my sparkly dress, chasing the girls, fixing the dart board for the boys and convincing Papa we were having a good time.
I worried whether the boys had a good time as they used to be the ones I’d chase around the house before they “grew up.” They looked stunned I would even question their overnight stay was a success as they were allowed to stay up as late as they wanted and eat all the junk food their bellies could hold.
They girls are already asking when the next overnight stay would be and if Fifi could attend. Of course, I said, although Gigi needs a couple weeks to rest up.
The 5-year-old said, “Fifi is Gigi,” while the four-year-old suggested we give Gigi a lie detector test. The three-year-old said, “I love her.”
I’ll be anyone they want me to be.
Sandy Turner lives in Independence. Email her at email@example.com.