April 12, 2025, was the day I finally broke. My nephew Caleb was turning three, and my sister—bless her heart—decided a “Fintastic” underwater theme was the only way to go. As a Houston elementary teacher with twenty-two second-graders in my classroom every weekday, I thought I was prepared for anything. I was wrong. By 2:00…
My living room smelled like damp cardboard and cheap plastic eye patches last June 12th, mostly because I decided a troop of 14 seven-year-olds could definitely handle a “high seas” adventure in our suburban Portland basement. I stood there, clutching a single, lonely roll of black crepe paper, staring at my ceiling and wondering exactly…
Houston humidity does things to party supplies that the manufacturers in cooler climates clearly never considered. Last October 12, I found myself standing in my backyard with twenty-two screaming three-year-olds and a box of soggy paper noisemakers that looked more like sad, wet noodles than jungle animals. My nephew Leo was turning three, and my…
Austin heat is no joke, especially when you are trying to keep a glittery tiara from sliding off your forehead while holding a spicy watermelon mimosa. I spent the better part of last April scouring every boutique from South Congress to the Domain looking for princess birthday hats for adults that didn’t look like they…
The hallway smelled like Elmer’s glue and frantic desperation last Saturday afternoon. I sat on the hardwood floor of our Denver home, surrounded by 16 bright red paper sacks and a mountain of orange pom-poms. My daughter, Maya, was turning seven, and she had decided—with the unwavering conviction only a second-grader possesses—that her party needed…
My kitchen floor currently shines with a layer of fine iridescent dust that no vacuum in Atlanta can fully conquer. This is the aftermath of Maya’s 10th birthday. I am a single dad who, through three years of spectacular failures and one very confused golden retriever, has somehow become the neighborhood go-to for mythical creature…
My living room looked like a red and blue yarn bomb went off last October, and honestly, I loved every second of it. My middle son, Max, turned seven, and he wanted a superhero bash that would make the Avengers jealous, but my bank account was singing a different tune after a costly roof repair…
Teaching twenty-four third-graders in the heart of Houston during a humid Tuesday afternoon is exactly like herding caffeinated kittens through a car wash. I have spent fifteen years in the classroom, which means I have seen every possible iteration of the “class party” known to man. Some parents bring in store-bought cupcakes that turn tongues…
The humidity in Austin on April 12, 2024, was thick enough to chew, but that didn’t stop my five-year-old nephew Leo from demanding a full outdoor “The Big One” celebration. I stood in my backyard with Cooper, my overly-excited golden retriever, watching thirteen chaotic kindergartners sprint around a blue tarp I had optimistically labeled “The…
Austin in May is basically a giant, humid greenhouse, and last year I decided to lean into the heat by hosting a “Honey, I’m 30” birthday bash for my best friend Jenna. We gathered at a picnic table near Barton Springs on May 14, 2024, and I had this vision of everyone looking like a…
