No One Can Party Like my Pretty Girl

I packed it all. Sleeping bag. Hello Kitty pillow. Beloved fuzzy lion and brand new stuffed cat. Oh yeah, and pajamas.

We all were having a marvelous time. Mr. Lipstick, Pretty Girl, and I attended a relaxed NYE hosted by a great friend from pharmacy school (JBB was still livin' it up at Mommy and Daddy Lipstick's house). Laughter was effortless, food and drink were plentiful, and the entire atmosphere was comfortable. Never mind we had an entire house at our disposal; most of the men settled in the garage and most of the women sat around the kitchen table. The children were happy with each other and all available toys and especially the two dogs.

About 10:30, when everyone else's children had crashed, Pretty Girl was still prancing around, chasing the dogs, and asking me to fix the bow in her hair. I decided I had better at least put on her pajamas and cut her off from the apple juice.

An hour later, she was still going strong except she had some company. Our host's two year old son apparently didn't want to be with the boring old sleeping kids and he came downstairs and joined the crowd. They played rather well together except for one minor problem.

About a hundred small wooden blocks were on the floor. They played for a few minutes, the Host's Son lost interest, then Pretty Girl picked them up. ALL of them. She carefully put the blocks in the cloth bag and manhandled it across the floor. Host's Son immediately picked up the bag and dumped ALL of the blocks on the floor. I swear in front of the Internet that Pretty Girl screamed, "I just cleaned that up!!!" A super-cool pharm-mommy friend of mine deadpanned, "Honey, you'll be sayin' that all of your life." The whole thing was very funny and I'm sure more laughter would have ensued if we were not so busy trying to predict what event would detonate our two year olds' late night party mood.

Midnight came. Mr. Lipstick and I attempted a romantic kiss, but it was a little more on the harried and clumsy side since Pretty Girl crashed into us mid-head-tilt. My friend the host took lots of pictures of us. Here are two. We wanted some with the two two-year-old party animals (and don't you know, we are already a little concerned about what they are gonna be like come freshman year...), but of course, they were off and running. No picture happened. Sigh. But get this...we didn't leave the party until nearly 20 minutes 'til 1. Yes. Pretty Girl wasn't ready to go.