We are at the end of a weekend-long festival of 8-year-old-ness. As always, I am in total denial that we are even at this point. I mean how can it be the case when I’m pretty sure I was in labour with her not much more than a year ago?
We had 7 little people here for a slumber party last night (including the birthday girl and her little sister who felt very grown up indeed to be hangin’ with the big girls) and they were all, without exception, edible.
There was a special at-request birthday dinner of rigatoni carbonara and apple pie then a snuggle under piles of doonas while they avidly watched Roald Dahl’s ‘The BFG’.
We served Snozzcumbers - hollowed out cucumbers stuffed with smoked salmon and cream cheese and decorated with poppy seeds and popcorn – and Frobscuttle – lemonade dyed green and purple - at the corresponding points through the movie which went down a treat.
I am totally serving Snozzcumbers at my next grown-up party. They were genuinely delicious.
The best bit was when Sophia’s friends voted (unanimously apart from the birthday girl I might add) to see a dance routine from her father and I. We did, if I do say so myself, outdo ourselves. Thanks must also go to Christina Aguilera and Pittbull. I have literally been building up to that moment my entire parenting life and it was well worth the wait.
It was Sophia’s idea to make a pillowcase for each person and these whipped up in under an hour with some t-shirt transfer paper and a hot iron. Another magic trifecta craft: quick, easy and effective.
I have two little babes sleeping very soundly at this moment. And possibly having nightmares about their parents’ dance moves. Potentially scarring stuff that.