I fear your conclusions after reading this post, but it must be documented for posterity. And perhaps to facilitate psychotherapy sessions later on.
It started out so well. I was fixated, pun intended, on making Leepo his own Fix-it Felix costume for his birthday party. It was easy enough to do with some stick-on patches and puffy paint. The only snafu occurred was when I was running out of time and that's when my gold metallic spray paint failed me as I was trying to coat that plastic hammer. I tried to spray and it came out as gold dust, then plugged up the nozzle. It was the night before his birthday party so I sent Tim out to the store just before it closed to get a replacement. His man-brain (which I normally love and appreciate!) made the executive decision to get the spray-paint in a different finish. When he came home with a hammered, antique shade of gold I was approaching a bridezilla tantrum. This is Fix-it Felix and his GOLDEN hammer, sucka! You give me some shabby chic finish instead?! (Guess who woke up at 5:30AM to get some paint, spray like a mad woman, and hold a hairdryer over a plastic hammer while hiding in a hot garage?)
It was all worth it when Leepo woke up and got his surprise. I mean, look up at his face of delight with that hammer and outfit. Totally worth it, right?
Well, more surprises were to come. Which leads me to. . .
I don't know what's wrong with me. But whatever it is, my brother has it, too. We hatched a plan prior to this party that was so funny to us that we had to go through with it.
Here's how it all went down.
First of all, do you know who Fix-it Felix and Wreck-it Ralph are? They are characters from the Disney movie named after the latter. Ralph is a bad guy in a video game, but he wants to be good. Unfortunately, he ruins everything he touches.
Enter the birthday cake.
Leepo was already testy because we sang Happy Birthday to his sister first. I didn't plan on that, but my brother needed some time to get dressed where he wouldn't be spotted, and this is how we stalled. I quickly learned then and there that this whole shared birthday party business is not cool. Not cool at all.
After Beanie blew out the candles to her large and beautiful cake, we presented Leepo with his own cake. It was noticeably smaller than what his sister had, plus the decoration was a mere smiley face. Disappointment flashed on his face only briefly as he compared the two. He was going to make the most of this, as best he could, until. . .
MY BROTHER ENTERED THE ROOM, PROCLAIMED THAT HE WAS "GONNA WRECK IT," AND SMASHED THE CAKE TO BITS WITH HIS LARGE FISTS.
Cake stuff went flying. Children were screaming. It was epic.
Of course we explained that it was a joke and that there was a real cake coming out, but judging from all the snot-stained shirts on the parents that day, I'm not sure if everyone appreciated our sense of humor.
As for Leepo, he calmed down eventually. He had his birthday pie (he's not a fan of cake, actually), opened presents, and had a pinata. It was all good in the end, really! So what if he's wetting the bed now?*
Note: We have scattered iPhone photos from this event that show crying children and/or clinging to their parents, but they're a hodge-podge of images in poor lighting. I'll come back to paste together what I can, but keep in mind I'm also busy trying to patch up shattered hope and dreams. Priorities.
*I kid, I kid.