Boys Will Be Boys 2

Last weekend was Benjamin's buddy Brayden's birthday bash. (Now say that three times fast.) Brayden's doting parents Caroline and David rented out the great room of our neighborhood clubhouse and turned it into a veritable playground for kids and adults alike. In addition to the usual party accoutrements like balloons and streamers, there was an impressive buffet of pan-Asian cuisine, a mini playground for the tots, and an Xbox Rock Band game set up in front of the big-screen TV. It was uh-MAZING, and both Vince and I couldn't help but be impressed by the lavish spread. With Benjamin's own birthday approaching, we were tempted to shield his eyes from the decadence.

As we waited for the guest of honor to make his grand arrival, a funny thing happened: people began giving Benjamin with their birthday greetings. One woman approached him with outstretched arms and asked, "Is this the birthday boy?" When I told her that no, this was not the birthday boy, she seemed confused, and then suspicious. I assured her that the baby in my arms, was indeed my baby, and his name was Benjamin. This exchange repeated itself numerous times before Brayden's arrival, and then once he was present, people exclaimed that they looked like brothers, if not twins. I'm inclined to agree!

As if often the case at meals out, Vince and I had to take turns eating. Ever the gentleman, Vince let me eat first, and then I looked after Benjamin while he went to fill his plate. When ten minutes passed and he hadn't returned, I began to wonder where he was. With Benjamin on my hip, I did a quick pass through the room, and came upon this scene:

Vince stayed there with his butt glued to the seat for a good half hour, and in the end, I had to drag him away from the game. I guess it's true what they say: boys will be boys. I guess I shouldn't be too hard on my husband, because sometimes I find it hard to act my age, too.