"I Mickey Mouse my birthday?"
That's all I've heard for a week. Mickey Mouse this and Mickey Mouse that. Mickey Mouse's house is my own personal hell. Why? Because his name is not Mickey Mouse. It's Chuck E Cheese.
I am not a fan of robotic rats, crappy pizza, and generic silly bandz that cost 100 tickets each.
But....a certain someone's birthday was made. Morning to night it was a good day. Birthday Girl shirt announcing the day, cookies with her new class at daycare, a trip to "Mickey Mouse's house", yummy cake with too much frosting, and a few presents to unwrap.
The last words out of my overtired now-three-year-old tonight? "Mama, I not two more, right? I three now. It my birthday. My Mickey Mouse pink birthday."
Happy Birthday Sweet Girl!
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1 comment:
Dang. Why didn't I think to tell S that Chuck E. Cheese was Mickey Mouse's house? It may be annoying, but it's cheaper than Disney! ;)
Happy belated birthday, kiddo!!
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