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Kids Birthdays:
At my granddaughter's second birthday party, her father was to
record some of the significant events of the day on his camcorder.
He had a battery in the charger and was sure he was ready. The
problem was, something didn't work and no events were recorded.
He was disappointed.
I realized, that evening, that I did not remember my second birthday or any other birthday. Until recently, no one had ever brought my birthdays to my attention. Now, when I am 70, some do it out of spite. Earlier, they were little noted nor long remembered, as the saying goes. It's understandable. My parents raised six children in limited cash flow circumstances. (We were poor kids.) There could be no gifts or parties.
An even worse situation was true for my spouse, Mrs. Gaffer. Her father died in September and her second birthday came in November of the same year. Her brother was just a baby at the time. In both of our childhoods, survival was not assured and took high precedence over birthday celebrations. Thus, while we can sympathize with the camcorder incident, we cannot really identify with it. We just thank Minerva things are better for our children and grandchildren.
Recently I have seen some really silly nonsense on the televison news shows. It seems we have professional kids-party counselors now. Our local news show has to fill 90 minutes each evening so they often feature people like this. Even if they cover highschool sports, there is not more than 15 minutes of real news each day.
These latest counselors are opportunists who seem to prey on insecure mothers, especially if they are of the upward mobile set. They teach, for a fee of course, the protocols of children's birthday parties. Don't laugh. This is real. Some of them also preside at these significant events. This made me wonder what would happen if someone like that approached my mother with her six kids when I was a tad.
Fool, at the door: "Hi there ma'am. I'm Ms. Knowtall,
a happy birthday counselor."
"What?" says Mother Gaffer.
"I'm Mrs. Knowtall..."
"Wait a minute. Willie, let your sister out a that closet.
Where's your brother."
She turns to the fool. "What?"
"I'm a happy birthday counselor."
"Just a minute."
Mother Gaffer turns and takes a step into the house. "Willie!
I'm gonna whack your little butt. Let her out a there — and
get off a the cat."
She turns back around.
"What?"
The fool tries to start over with a strained smile. "I'm
Ms. Knowtall. I'm a happy birthday counselor."
"What in the world is a happy birthday counselor?"
"Well ma'am, it's a new profession. I help...."
There is a piercing scream from inside.
"Wait a minute," says Mother Gaffer.
She goes into the house letting the screen door slam. Voices come
from inside the house.
"Okay, Willie, that's it."
"It wasn't me ma! It was Jack. He stuck a fork in Eunice."
"Let's see. Oh dear."
Screams of terror.
A white faced saucer eyed girl runs out of the house with a fork
protruding from her forehead.
The fool looks in shock and puts a kerchief to her mouth.
"Come back here, Eunice! Jack! You get in here right now."
The fool reaches out to the girl who ducks back into the house.
"Hold still, while I pull it out."
Another scream.
"Let's see now. Oh, it ain't so bad. Here. Hold this rag
to it."
Sobs and moans.
"Faith, get me some tape from the medicine cabinet. Jack!
you sit right there and don't — you — move."
After a few more moans and sobs, Mother Gaffer returns to the
door and a white-faced, wide-eyed fool.
"A happy birthday counselor? What in the world is that?"
"Ah, uh, I, I teach, uh,"
"Get it out child. What do you teach?"
The white face fool forces an answer. "I teach people how
to create, meaningful, memorable, and stress free birthday parties
for their children."
"Stress free?"
"Yes ma'am, I can...."
Mother Gaffer holds up a hand to pause the fool.
"Jack! Your already in for it. I told you not to move. Just
wait ‘til your father gets home."
She turns back.
"Why are you here, child?"
"I thought I could be of service."
"Of service? What do you do?"
"I teach...."
"Yes, but what do you do? Are you a maid? I can't afford
no maid."
The fool, looking very distress, pulls a card from her purse and
hands it to Mother Gaffer.
"I think I'll just leave my card. In case you decide to have
a birthday party, just call me."
"Just call?"
"Yes, on the telephone."
"Hey, we ain't got no telephone. Where you think you are,
one a them ritzy places up on Van Alstyne?"
The fool turns and rushes away, shaking her head as she goes.
Mother Gaffer muses, "Poor dear. Her mama dresses her nice,
but she just ain't too bright. Couldn't even explain why she was
here in the first place. I'll sure have something to tell pa when
he gets home. We got to be real happy with our kids. For sure
they make a fuss now and then, but they ain't dumb. Poor child.
She'll be better off uptown where they don't know no better. Don't
need to know, long as they got their daddy's money.
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