Erma Bombeck says that the best way to get your house clean is to throw a party. This seemed like such a good idea a couple of weeks ago; when I scheduled the party for May 18th and sent out the invitation and got to feel like I was really a head of the game for about 10 minutes before Awkward Dad goes, "The 18th? Oh, yeah, I am on call that day. How about the 4th?" After I screamed about what exactly is the point of having a family calendar if no one respects it and how much residency can kiss it and how hard it was to change my online invitation (it wasn't), I calmed down and actually began to embrace the idea of having a May 4th party. Wanna know why, Readers? The nerds of you have already figured it out, but for my saner friends; May 4th is Star Wars day. (i.e. May the 4th be with you....oh punny Warsies.) Hence, our theme was born.
Awkward Grandma will tell you that, after food, the most important thing of any party is the theme. Sure, you can have a party without one, but why would you? Party stores exist for the very reason of totally overdoing it when you could simply be an adult and have some people over for sedate conversation and some artfully designed crudites. Yeah, that doesn't sound very fun to me either, so our plan is to grill hamburgers and hot dogs, show all 6 Star Wars movies, decorate with a million Luke and Leia stickers and lightsaber garlands, and let 20-or-so children bash in a Darth Vader head pinata. Now that sounds like fun.
However, I am still in the cleaning part of throwing a party and only dreaming of grilled meat and raining candy/sith brains. Thus, I should go. I'll be back to let you know all about it, Readers; it shall be epic. There is really no way around it. Until then, content yourself with this photo of Super Preschooler acting like a Jedi big game hunter with a disturbing lack of faith and an even more disturbing sense of humor:
I am telling you. It shall be Epic, Readers.
You should have seen Awkward Mom try to get that thing home. It rattled around in the trunk until that felt too much like driving a mobster's car, so she moved him to the front seat. Then, he flung himself at the windshield at every red light and knocked off his nose, so she had to strap him in. Nothing weird about that, right? Maybe just a little awkward....