Courtesy of We Heart It.
This might seem like an odd topic, but please bare with me, it's just my head is whirring & I found myself looking at & considering the ever nutty world of children & birthdays.
About a week ago I had a poorly friend & her little dot was at a school friends party (my 'faux niece' - I'll quantify how one can have a faux niece. She knows me as 'Auntie Lucie' & I see her a lot (every week, sometimes several times a week) & do things with her as one would a real niece).
Well due to poorly mummy I said I'd pick her up.
Before I go any further the little dot in question has barely turned 5, making her classmates a range of 4 & 5 themselves.
So I found out the details, supper at Zizzis!! I had to ask twice as it just seemed odd but alas that's exactly what is was. Her friends 5th birthday party was not a 5 year olds 'party' but a supper date in Zizzis.
I go to the entrance, a hostess comes up to ask if they can help me & I find myself uttering "yes, I'm here for a 5 year old who's attending a dinner date" all whilst trying desperately to not roll my eyes or raise my eyebrows. Thankfully the host in question did those facial reactions on my behalf.
I got directed to the table in question & there amongst families having dinner & couples on actual dinner dates I came across the table of prim & proper 4 & 5 year olds & guess what . . .
Not a balloon or bowl of jelly was in sight.
I get my ever excited greeting (if having a bad day I strongly recommend a bit of child time) & find myself uttering what feels like a highly inappropriate selection of words "say thank you for having me" (who the hell should she really have thanked? The restaurant host? The server for the evening?) & "did you have fun & a lovely time?" (fun . . . hmm & when exactly would they have have been playing at this 'party'? How can a 5 year old have fun on a dinner date?)
As we left & started the journey to her home, the bit in me that screams 'kids should be kids dammit' somehow started skipping & hopping & generally being a little frivolous & uttering oodles of pointless nattering subjects because ultimately there was no jelly, ice cream or pass the parcel & that just didn't feel right in my brain.
So if it's dinner dates to turn 5, what the hell happens at a 10th birthday? Opera? Champagne & Canapés?
Something in that evening did not feel okay; I remain thankful that my 'faux niece' had a party complete with stuffed unicorn toy (naturally named 'Uni' - I imagine the girl who had a dinner date would prefer a 'real' animal not a mythical animal toy to name 'Sir Hamilton of Toyland' or something similar).
Is it just me that thinks kids grow up too quickly these days? Or finds it a little perturbing that dinner dates are now, for some, the approach for children birthdays.