We celebrated the Monkey's birthday this past weekend. Now, 2 is an extremely stressful age under any circumstances. Big people are always trying to make you play with your toys, eat your dinner, drink out of a sippy cup, and to make matters worse, you have no concept of the idea that these days are limited, and some day you will be one of the big people. It's like a never-ending cacophony of "eat your pizza," "drink your juice," play with your car." Nightmare.
Anyway, it's even worse when you have to have a birthday party. We thought Green Lakes would be an excellent place for said party, there is plenty of beach area, a nice playground, even little grills to make burgers. But for young Jonathan, whose mean mommy wouldn't let him run in the lake, made him leave the slide to open presents, systematically took away every cool present he got just when he started having fun, the torture became virtually unbearable. "No! No! Noooo!" Even a bottle couldn't fix it; and when a bottle can't fix it, you know it's bad. Oh well. At least we only have one more year. 12 months. 52 weeks. Shoot me.
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