the boy turns five.

How is it that your first born child, in the blink of an eye, turns five years old?  Where did my baby go?  We have cherished every single day of the past five years with this little boy - our son.  We marked this milestone with a party for George and a gaggle of his little friends on Saturday.  The party's theme will come as a complete shock, I'm sure.

You can't get any cuter than a roomful of sweet little guys willing to wear SpongeBob party hats.  So precious.

We did a craft (well, sort of . . . hard to do a craft when there is hockey, baseball, basketball and a host of other activities going on in the backyard), ate a yummy lunch expertly prepared by Pap, and then came time for cake and ice cream.  And someone who shall remain nameless (ahem) is going to receive his Father-of-the-Year award for this act of love (and courage):

 

Yes, that is Kevin in a Spongebob costume.  This absolutely made George's day. 

 

After the shock of George seeing his father dressed as his favorite cartoon character he blew out his candles.

 

And here are the boys with Uncle Dan - a kid at heart.  And honestly, I wonder if it was just coincidence that Dan wore a SpongeBob shirt, or if he knew about the party's theme.  I'm thinking it was just coincidence.

 

When the time came to open presents the kids were excited.  Very excited.  The party quickly turned into a tryout for the WWE.

I really can't accurately describe in words the level of excitement with the gift opening.  Hopefully the above picture gives it some justice - the only one without a giant blur moving from one side of the frame to the other.  And as you may notice Kevin quickly stripped himself of the costume.  I just love that man.

After another interruption in the party's agenda for a round of every sport under the sun, we brought out the pinata.  If you're ever in the market for something super indestructable, like a bullet-proof vest or goalie pads, save yourself some cash and buy a SpongeBob pinata at Kmart.  The thing cannot be destroyed.  A group of 10 boys eager to swing bats can do little damage.

Okay, boys.  One at a time.  Beat poor SpongeBob as hard as you can.

Round 2.  Swing, kids, swing!  This is for candy for crying outloud!

Round 3.  Forget it.  Let's cheat.  Everyone grab a string.

Pull boys!  Pull!  For your life!  Do it!

Oh, for the love of . . . Kevin just rip the thing open.

Before we knew it the celebration was over and we said goodbye to all of our friends.  Just as the last rugrat was on his way home, Maggie and I were talking in the dining room when she said to me, "Erica, turn around.  You have to take a picture."  And there he was.  My five-year-old cake loving boy blissfully and with eyes closed and without a care in the world, nose deep in his leftover birthday cake.  Oh, to be 5!

Happy birthday you gorgeous, silly boy!