Over the weekend, my BIL commented while entering our house, “I feel like I’m in Party City.” At first, I thought he was saying this b/c of the four balloons that were floating in our living room (dropped off as a gift for my son). I then realized that the general level of stimulation in our home is intense. With Mickey rocking out his Hot Dog Dance in the background, the dog barking, son whining, baby cooing, various brightly-colored toys in every crevice, residual from our moon dough incident last week, and more bean bag chairs, baby swings, exersaucers and jumperoos than I can count, I’d say we’re a “high energy” home. (The cast situation has not necessarily slowed us down–see photos and thank you SO much J.H. for the scooters :)!) Before my BIL’s comment, I had never thought about charging admission at the front door, but it’s an idea that begs consideration. The Party House is a very kid-friendly, nap-inducing (for every child but mine) fun house. This stands in stark contrast to my sister and BIL’s home. After spending a night there a month ago, I declared it The Oasis and wanted to permanently move in. It was like a spa retreat. I told my sister this and she looked at me like I had 3 heads–she couldn’t understand, but as far as I’m concerned, being able to walk straight through a room without leaping over and snaking around dogs, children and large stationary toys will be one of the most peaceful and euphoric experiences of my 30s.
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