when I tell them I really did just throw this together. This stuff is literally hanging out in my kitchen/pantry and why put chips and salsa in a designated chip/salsa bowl when you can make that shizz cute in an apple basket. Ok, I'm lying a bit, I did put in a tad bit of effort for Gabe's first bonfire because we invited our neighbors, whose children are the middle-schoolers that Gabe hangs with. We are just getting to know these peeps and everyone knows that my strong suit is not mature conversation skills. My skill is making shizz cute.
I really do have such a hard time having normal conversations, especially with people that are older than me. My go-to is being stupid or attempting to be funny, which a lot of times ends with me being stupid. And if I'm sober? Forget about it. Send me over to the tween section, that's where I belong.
Since we're new to this whole parenting gig, I don't know all the rules that go along with having a kid with grown ass friends, ya know? Like, I told the one friend he could come to the pumpkin patch with us and he got all excited but it wasn't until I woke up that morning did I think that maybe I should call his mom and ask her? I have to do these things now? Luckily I warned them that they are my trial and error parent friends and not to hold it against me.
So we grabbed some hard cider, some marshmallows and some hot dogs and invited the kids and their parents over. And although I spent most of the time following Gabe around and keeping him 36 feet from the fire, we managed to have a fantastic night around the firepit.
Oh, did you meet my own tween? This is Gabe.
And these are his friends. Funny, clever boys who give me hope that not all middle school boys are the devil's spawn. Because I seriously thought they were. So thanks dudes. And thanks for thinking my toddler is the bees knees.
Just chillin with mah friends Ma.