We
stopped to pick up pizza for the youngsters on our way to Nathan and April’s
house. It went well with the
marshmallows on a stick dipped in white chocolate and blue … something. Do they make blue chocolate? There were some blue jello squares and some
punch that was also blue. The Rice
Krispy treats had a blue bottom. I’m
guessing blue has something to do with the movie.
When all of the children arrived we counted sixteen. I think. They were everywhere. And there were more adults than that, and they take up a lot more room. There were people from the fire department, from the hospital, from the neighborhood, from the cheerleading team, from school, and of course family. I thought it might be just a bunch of little girls, since I had heard tell of a slumber party after the festivities. Enjoy that, buy the way, Nathan. But Kel and Christina came with their three boys, and Cailyn’s cousin from Corpus Christi was also there, so the guys did have representation. And they made the most of their opportunities when they could. At one point the girls all went inside, so the guys (All except Josiah. He stayed with the girls. Watch out for that little up-and-coming player) grabbed a football and descended on the trampoline for a rousing game of what looked to me more like rugby than football. They did seem to have some serious fun.
Nathan called
all the kiddos over for the traditional piñata.
This one was formed in the shape of Elsa on one side and the snowman guy
on the other, so you were beating the plug out of the two of them. It only took four or five kids taking a swat
before the hanging bag of candy gave up its innards. And of course the expected race to fill up
their little bags followed. Before long
the kids started drifting away, returning to the trampoline or up to Cailyn’s
room or to a corner somewhere so they could sneak an extra piece or two before
Mom took the stash away. And as the area
cleared I noticed something I have never seen before in all my many years of piñata
watching. There was candy left on the
ground. And not just a piece or two
hidden beneath a fallen leaf. There was
candy left over. Now here’s the
thing. Every single piece of leftover
candy was … a dumdum. The kids just didn’t
want dumdums. Even some of the adults
made their way over to marvel at the spectacle of leftover candy, but they didn’t
help remedy the situation. They simply
shook their heads and moved on. Much
speculation abounded, but the most reasonable answer I heard? We can blame the demise of the dumdum on
doctors’ offices. When you are a kid, what
do get every time you get a shot? A dumdum,
of course. Bank dumdums were mentioned
as a counter to that argument, but you have to consider, the drive-through bank
dumdums come from a vast bottomless cavern under the ground. There is enough mystery involved there to
cancel out the kind of candy. So, as sad
as it may seem, dumdums are officially out, gone, dead. And we were there to witness … The Demise of
the DumDum. Sadness in the midst of such
great joy. Sigh. But we all must move on. What will be the next icon of American candy
to fall by the wayside? Tootsie
rolls? Hershey bars? Nestle Crunch bars? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOo.
Nehemiah
8:10 says, “Nehemiah said, ‘Go and enjoy
choice food and sweet drinks, and send some to those who have nothing prepared.
This day is sacred to our Lord. Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your
strength.’”
Father,
thank you for the incredible cross-section of people at the party. What a great example of the array of lives we
touch every day. Help us to represent
you well. Amen.
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