BIRTHDAY BASH

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It was certainly the first time in my life I have ever uttered the phrase, "Do you want to me fill up your purse with Cheeto's?"

While it may sound like my wife and I have been on a convenience store shoplifting spree, I assure you we're on the level. In fact, the comment seemed quite normal when put in context of putting on a 4-year-old's birthday party.

My daughter, Allie, was very excited about the party. My wife made what I said was a huge tactical error by informing her in advance of the birthday party plans. Weeks before, Allie was asking about her birthday. Every day, Allie would wake up and say, "Is TODAY my birthday party?" It would have been far easier for all parties to one day wake up and say, "Get dressed, Allie. Time for your party."

But my wife decided to make her a critical player in the party planning process. My wife would float ideas out to Allie, and Allie would contribute by affirming that, yes, she wanted that at her party. To hear my daughter tell it, she was going to have a princess/mermaid/My Little Pony/Care Bears/Dragon Tails sleepover. And our dogs were invited.

Eventually, my wife culled down the ideas to a single theme -- a dress-up party. The way this was work, I was told, was that there would be approximately 43,000 different outfits/costumes/get-ups, and kids would spend a couple of hours changing clothes.

But while I had the idea of the party resembling a changing room at a department store, my wife had much bigger ideas. For example, the snacks for the party would be served in various dress-up items, namely a fireman's hat and a purse. I thought this seemed odd, and was afraid other parents would remark, "Oh, how sad — they can't afford bowls. She's using her purse to store Cheeto's." "Oh, well, makes sense," another party goer would say. "If you can't afford bowls, what do you need a purse for?"

Apparently, I am in the minority here, as other people seemed to get what she was shooting for. "A purse for a snack bowl! Cute!" was one remark. "A purse for a snack bowl? Should I fill my wallet with chips?" was my unappreciated remark.

When it came time for the actual festivities, Allie put on various outfit parts. She was a combination of Little Mermaid, Cinderella and someone on safari. I can honestly say that was the first time I have seen a mermaid in a camouflage vest and pith helmet.

After a short while, I was coerced by some of the partygoers to pick out MY outfit. I told them that I had my outfit. I was dressed as someone being forced to put Cheeto's in a purse. "No, you're a police man!"

Before I knew it, I was trying to force a very small pretend police helmet on my head. It was complete with visor, I guess for the possibility of a toddler riot. Despite repeated attempts at wedging the helmet on my head, I switched to a different look. After attempting all of the Village People costumes, I resorted to an ill-fitting sombrero.

My son, Parker, thoroughly enjoyed the festivities, as it was his personal Mardi Gras. He gravitated toward a pile of beads and jewelry. My sister also made a point of showing me just how much he liked the clip-on earrings. Thanks, sis. Thanks a ton.

The party went quite well. Children can eat up gobs of time changing in and out of clothes. This should come as no surprise to anyone with small children, as they can attest to the fact that it often takes upwards of four days to get a child into pajamas.

The party went quite well, in that there were no injuries or temper tantrums, and the children seemed plenty tired at the end of the party. I think the mark of any good party is when you achieve a rate of at least 50 percent in the "Falling Asleep on the Ride Home" category. We reached that rate in my car, and I trust others had similar success.

My daughter could not stop talking about how good of a time she had, which certainly made the effort worth it. After the party, Allie asked if she was turning five the next day. When I told her no, she asked when she would be turning five, and if she would be having another party. "Yes, you will," I assured her. "I'll tell you a good five minutes before it starts."