In which we celebrate the sixth birthday of a couple of miracles, are awash in a sea of balloons, and marvel at one man’s ability to control nearly 30 kids (which may have had something to do with the baloons).

Today was party day. First and foremost, a party for a  LOT of kids to celebrate my nephews’ sixth birthday(s). This to be followed by a barbecue (grill) for any grown-ups who survive the first party.

As you can imagine, prepping for the kids’ party would be quite a bit of work, so we planned to be up nice and early to help set up the garden area, including marquee. We therefore slept in until 9:00am, getting up to discover that the marquee was up and lunch boxes largely prepared. Fortunately, there was some general organization, bits and pieces, and cheese sandwiches to make. So we contributed a little at least.

The party started at 11:30, when kids, parents, and the entertainer all stated arriving. I’m going to skip details largely ‘cause it’s not my place to blab details of my nephews’ party all over the interwebs, but I will say that a good time was had by all.

OK, I lied. There is something that I have to mention. Pam asked the boys what the wanted on their birthday cake. The first response was “A furby!”. because these wretched demon toys are apparently making a comeback. The second response was “Royston!”, the magician who performed at their last birthday party and might just possibly be back this year. So, when Pam next met Rachel, the nice lady (and friend of the family) who had offered to make their cake, she told her that the theme was “Furbies and Royston!” Good luck! [Exit, stage left].

Rachel, it turns out, is a miracle worker. Behold:

Since I’m talking a little bit about the party, I’ll also briefly mention the aforementioned entertainer.

Royston is a living miracle. Magician and master of the balloons, he kept all the kids entertained and the twins appropriately in the limelight for well over an hour. I have to say that I think the balloons were the thing that blew me away (hah!) the most. Hundreds of the things. Literally hundreds. And he made all sorts of things with ‘em, from swords to jetpacks to head dresses that would’ve sent Carmen Miranda home in a huff.

When the kiddie guests left, the adults settled in. It had started to rain, so the great British barbecue turned into a fry & grill-up. So be it. Meat was cooked and consumed, as were many beers, wines, and gin & tonics. Another casual evening…