Act 5, Scene 3: “Death by Kid Party (Plus a Business Opportunity)”

It’s time for more of the birthday party circuit, a trip to Noodle Noggin’ ‘N Bean. TRL leans against the birthday room wall, where every hour on the hour another joyous celebration cycles through. Fifteen minutes of arts and crafts which forces TRL to bend down to help C & E, TRL’s knees cracking and back hurting, glue rubbed on every garment and ultimately what is produced is a disfigured paper bag animal puppet that will last another 22 minutes before it is destroyed or forgotten. Then comes the cake, an over-the-top photo-realistic sugar bomb that will wire the kids for an hour-and-a-half and leave them angry sleepless shells by the time they are back home. Today’s cake eaters, tomorrow’s homeless junkies. After the cake, the ice cream and juice, because there just isn’t enough sugar in their systems yet.

TRL knows this is all well and good for C & E. They like the arts and crafts, and the cake, and the ice cream and juice. And they love running around like, well, the wired three-and-a-half year olds that they are, going from room to room riding the bikes and fishing in the wet room and playing doctor in the nursery and playing store clerk in the grocery room. It’s a rave for the young set. It’s just that it bores the hell out of TRL, and inevitably gives him a headache. Other men, mostly with paunches, also lean against the wall, looking glum.

“I hate this stuff, there’s nobody for me to talk to, it’s boring, and it’s a beautiful sunny day out today and we are cooped into a windowless box,” TRL moans to S.

“Then leave,” says S. “The kids really love it.”

Which is true. TRL leans deeper against the wall and imagines the party as he would like to see it.

Alterna-party One: Au Natural
No cake. No ice cream. And no bending over sticks and glue for TRL. A farmer comes in and brings out carrots, passing them around to the kiddies and adults. These are sweet and crunchy, beautifully orange-yellow, smooth and delicious. The farmer tells the kids how they were planted and cared for and harvested on the organic farm. Corn comes next. And then cherry tomatoes. Apples, pears and honeydew melon follow. Lunch has been addressed, as has an educational component. A donkey ride follows out back, along with lessons in animal husbandry. The kids have a good time, the adults are engaged, everybody has good food in their bellies, and TRL doesn’t hate life.

Alterna-party Two: It’s All About the Parents
The kids get the arts and crafts and the high-sucrose speedball delight in the guise of a cute-clever cake and frozen and liquid sugar-delivery devices. But the kids also get two high-school helpers to walk them through the arts and crafts project and serve them their snacks and play delightedly with them afterwards. And TRL gets a barcalounger, a Hooters-moonlighting waitress to serve up hot wings and a cocktail, and in-party video monitor at the chair (think first-class on Singapore Airlines). A massage follows and everybody leaves feeling very happy indeed.

Alterna-party Three: The Business Opportunity
The kids love parties at the party factories, but what about the oldster set, parents of adult children? The baby boomer is not getting any younger, and soon these imminently diapered and drooling martini swilling movers and shakers will be moving in their pants and shaking from Parkinson’s, sure, but they still need a place to party. Which has TRL believing they need their own Chuck E. Cheese’s. Something a bit more sophisticated, of course. More of a Charles F. Gouda, or a Charlie S. Brie. Perhaps a Charlemagne Le Chevrot Blanc for the sophisticated set. But a place where adults can drop off their parents, let them rock and roll for an hour or two, have a great time and meet with friends, celebrate those octogenarian birthdays, and get all tuckered out for nap time. Sweet, sweet nap time. TRL considers this his business plan. Interested investors please send checks.

Act 5, Scene 2: “Fudged Again”

C and E bounce around their room, flinging stuffed animals.

“Guys, how about a book? How about the alligator book?” suggests TRL.

E stops for a moment and turns to TRL. “The alligator? The fucking alligator.”

TRL stares, at a temporary loss for words. His brain does a quick search for appropriate parental responses. He knows you want to discourage the use of the word, but by forbidding the use or registering heightened emotion the kid will be drawn to it like forbidding sex or liquor to teens.

‘Ding’ - TRL’s brain comes up with a response: “Ah, we don't say that word, we say ‘oh shucks’ instead,” says TRL. “Or ‘shoot.’”

“Oh shoot, the fucking alligator,” responds E.

Act 5, Scene 1: “Nice Aim! And Sorry About the Baby.”

C nails a mom holding a baby. Picks up a basketball (mini-sized) at Gymboree, and lets it rip. The mother is not happy. Extremely not happy.

“C, you need to apologize,” says TRL.

“No.”

“C.”

“No.”

TRL sighs. The mother glares.

TRL tries a different tact. “C, why did you throw the ball?”

“I don’t want the baby here.”

TRL is secretly thrilled. It confirms that C was trying to hit the mom: C has great aim!

Both C and E have a thing about babies. E promises to put one in the oven should the opportunity arise.

“C, we don’t throw balls at people, especially babies.”

The mother stands glaring. TRL looks up. He is not happy that C threw the ball, but hey, they are at a place that encourages kids to throw balls. Basically the mother had walked into a war zone with a baby. Maybe she’s the one who’s been bad.