Pizza Party

Another birthday party has passed for The Boy, as chaotic as all the others (but at least not held in our house this time). 

This time, Pizza Hut was the unwilling victim of a flood of aggressive and over active five and six year olds, most of whom were boys. 

One of the (many) benefits of having a party for either Midget at a location other than Wiltshire Towers is that, when either child has had enough, they can leave the premises to the comparative calm of our house (rather than have guests still at the house after both kids have gone to bed and I am in my pyjamas, even when the party has finished at 3pm. True story. Happened twice).
I had pre warned them that some of our party are disabled, birthday boy included, for no reason other than I like to cover my bases should something happen and it is easier for me to pre ascertain where quiet areas are should any of the tribe need them.

Here, the differently abled kids, and the younger ones The Boy had let Lid invite from her class, behaved impecably (bar one who ran around like a ferret up piping and could not be pinned down, whose mother said it was nice to have a break and then thankfully dragged him away an hour before it ended), being helpful, kind, and generally a joy to be about.  The Boy's female best friend was wonderful throughout, taking pictures for us, and the special kids and younger guests were generally rambucious, excited and fun, including a young female friend of mine who highlighted tv programmes to me which I hadn't realised were on.

The neurotypicals - not so much, to the extent that one of them was asked to leave by myself after he shoved one of The Boy's friends so hard that he hit his face on a seat seperator and his tooth went through his lip.

The lessons I have learnt from this?

This is the second time we have had a party for either kid away from home, and I think that it is something we will be sticking with.  At home, we have had parents arrive several hours before a party is due to start or after a party has ended (even here, I was left at the venue for an additional 45 minutes after the party had over run by a good hour trying to phone one lad's parents, neither of whom answered their mobiles.)

It gave a quick escape for the most important person there - the birthday boy himself.  I didn't spend a week cleaning the house only to have some sanctimonious mother spot a cobweb I hadn't.  And I didn't end up with a shedload of food that wasn't eaten (though we did end up with guests that weren't invited, which is usual, but slightly irritating when you are paying per child).

Lastly (and let's ensure that the fact that I am listening to something he has said get back to him), allowing The Ex to veto children that have acted badly at our house in the past (the lad that hit The Boy's mate has a history of throwing toys on the train track that runs next to our house) would have been an excellent idea.  But we'll keep quiet about that...