From: (Mumthra)

Subject: Lots of Supplies

Date: 27 May 1999 00:00:00 GMT


Newsgroups: alt.foot.fat-free



Some birthday parties live on and even wait to bite you on the ass.

Sparky's party came back today for a visit.


Back in January, I assembled a big box of miscellaneous doodads for

the kids to craft into collages and hair barrettes and jewelry and

whatever else they could manage to create.


The wobbly eyeballs were a big success, as were the surplus gold

Christmas ribbons and miniature flowers, the feathers and beads. The

only thing that created genuine havoc was the glitter glue and our

goofiest little friend, Bitty.


Bitty loudly slopped glitter glue all over my dining room table and on

at least two other guests in her spasms of creative enthusiasm. At the

time, I remember trying to remember that for all her great size and

clumsiness, she is a bit younger than the others. Surely her slow

reactions to my reminders was a result of her hearing in English and

thinking in Spanish. She is NOT EVIL, I told myself.


Never mind that she wasn't exactly INVITED to the party, either. We

learned it well then that whenever one invites the angelic Betty, her

sister Bitty comes along in the deal. Betty may have a tough time

dating in years to come, but maybe that's what the parents have in



ANYWAY, The Box of Decoration Things was resurrected today. Sparky's

friend, Erica had a BIG IDEA and the two of them were going to make

dinosaurs out of cardboard and DECORATE them with THINGS. The glitter

glue was cuddled and begged for, and I allowed them to use it, just as

long as they confined the gooey arts to the deck.


The glitter glue is an oddly compelling THING. Our package contained

five large bottles of glue, and even with the inclusion of bright red,

it always managed to end up in a sort of blue-green-silver-gold

mixture on any rocks or papers that they painted.


They divided their time between glittifying papers outdoors and

constructing things indoors for awhile, and managed to remember not to

let the dog or the baby outside to stomp on their drying masterpieces.


Things got a bit more exciting when Spunky was brought onto the scene,

but only because she kept forgetting about the dog and the baby.


While quiet and happy art was being had out back, I decided that it

was the perfect time to sneak an ice cream sandwich. Boy, was I wrong.

I was wronger about that snack that I have been about any other thing

all day, I bet.


As I tore the wrapper, Spunky opened the door to tell me that Bitty

was climbing up onto the deck. "Mmumph! That's okay," I said, even

though I knew it was not okay. I set my sneaked snack aside.


I peered out at her and made eye contact. "Bitty, don't go crazy with

the glue. Keep it on the paper this time." She agreed.


When no one was looking, I again took up my sandwich. Four bites in, I

spotted Betty on my deck. Two more bites, and Spunky was flinging the

door wide and announcing a trip to wash her hands.


She caught me.


"Can I have one? Can I have one of those? You said I could have one of

those and I wanna have one of those!" She rolled on the floor to show

how much she wanted to have one as soon as she sensed that the answer

was going to be "no."


I attempted to reason with her for a minute before I heard the screams

from the deck. The dog was leaving glittery paw prints all over

someone's sticky project. A moment later, the dog was leaving glittery

paw prints on my rug.


The bathroom door slammed open and two pairs of hands were freed of

glitter, while I discovered that they had been finger painting with

the glue.


More screams. The baby was walking on the pictures and adding chubby

toe prints to the bigger hand prints. I scooped her up and brought her

in for a foot wipe. More hands were washed while we were in the



In a fit of distracted panic--the glue is drying! the glue is

drying!--I worked on my bathroom. Sparkly blue hand prints on the

light switch, silver on the door knob and red all over the soap. A

little of everything was glopped around the faucet knobs.


I should have been on the deck for at least five minutes by that time.

By the time I arrived at the right place, it was the wrong time. Bitty

was glittering all over, she was rubbing the glue into her shirt to

decorate it. She assured me that her mom "loved it" when she decorated

shirts. I scowled.


Spunky had glittery green toenails and informed me that I had a big

spot of red glitter glue on my pants. All five bottles had had their

squeezy caps removed, and the gold was puddling under the table. Big

dabs of color had been deposited on every chair and slopped onto the

table top. Spots and swirls decorated the railings and the surface of

the deck. Wobbly eyeballs and feathers and unfurled ribbons adhered to

some of it.


I blew.


"How could you possibly manage to make such a mess?!"


Erica looked up at me startled and solemn, "We had lots of supplies."


When they couldn't concentrate on cleanup, I banished the other girls,

who slowly and forlornly carried their pretty-pretty papers away. I

set Sparky and Spunky to work. The puttered and muttered and managed

to get most of the eyeballs off the furniture.


After that, I turned on the hose and I blasted everything. When they

complained about my hose management, I hosed them off too. The baby

laid down on the deck to drink like a dog as we wiped out our little

bit of Las Vegas.


Except for the dog. She's still decorated. Somebody must have petted