The Cataclysmic Birthday Bash

Birthdays were always a major occasion at our house. It wasn't just one person's birthday - it was three! At a very young age my brother, sister, and I began saving up our allowances to buy each other gifts. We would buy them as soon as August, even though our birthday was November. We were so excited!

In sixth grade our birthday landed on a Saturday and we decided to celebrate with a major birthday bash. My brother invented 8 friends, my sister and I invited 12. We had a total of 20 kids coming to our house! We specifically requested that nobody bring presents, and spent weeks ahead of time planning out what games to play, whether we should play Lazer Tag in the gym, and whether anyone disliked chocolate. Soon, the day finally came.

Kids flooded in from all over the city. My mom, who was legendary for her cakes and cooking creations (she'd made a 3-story carousel cake, a four foot dragon, and many spectacular designs), created a huge cake that looked like Hogwarts castle. It was enough to feed everyone, and was absolutely coated with chocolate frosting and towers, with miniature Harry Potter characters posed in the grounds.

Our house was full of screaming, hyperactive kids. The girls started out gossiping upstairs and migrated into the gymnasium to screw around. None of us ended up doing the games we'd originally planned. We were having the time of our lives. Suddenly, though, our bliss was shattered as nine boys invaded the gym, armed with very large and very dangerous (so we thought) rubber band guns. Rubber bands exploded from the ends of their guns hitting all of our guests and leaving angry red welts. We screamed, ran and cowered, but could not get past the throng of attackers. It wasn't long before they'd shut the door to the gymnasium and locked us in. We pounded on the window, screamed, and finally sat around moping, waiting for an adult to notice that we were captive. For some reason, while we were locked in the gym, playing didn't seem like so much fun. Instead we spent the good part of an hour sitting around or banging on the door.

When my mom realized that three fourths of her guests were locked in the gym she was furious! Her face grew red and she marched down to the basement, barking at the boys and forcing them to apologize to each of us once we were freed. The boys spent the rest of the party in vengeful silence, hardly having a bite of cake, while my sister and my guests gloated triumphantly.

That twelfth birthday was the end of any famous triplet parties. Years later our friends still talk about it (some of them wistfully, others not), but our parents made a rule from then on: no more parties. Our mom still makes fabulous cakes (this year she made a fantastic, huge, orange 'pumpkin' cake, and before that she made a large treasure chest scattered with fake jewels), but we now have a private party at home, where we go around the room, each taking turns opening a present and picking out the presents for the next round. In our family we don't sing happy birthday (my mom hums it, but other than that, we are all terrible singers), but instead enjoy the wonderful meal, the opening of a million presents, and then a movie down in the basement (usually our favorite movie, Finding Nemo).

This year I'm hoping my birthday present will be a moped, but I can't make any promises. As for a graduation party in 4 years? Not a chance. My mom has sworn off parties for good.