Lily stood in our Denver kitchen last Tuesday, her face smeared with what I hoped was chocolate pudding, screaming “Oink!” at the top of her lungs. My daughter is obsessed with a certain British pig. This obsession reached a fever pitch as her third birthday approached on April 12, 2026. My wife and I looked…
Twenty fourth-graders and a lukewarm potluck represent my baseline for a normal Tuesday in Houston. Between grading papers and breaking up playground disputes over who gets the blue swing, I somehow manage to throw six massive classroom parties every single year. Last March 12, 2024, my favorite student, Sofia, turned ten. Her mom is a…
My cousin Maya turned sixteen last month, and y’all, the pressure was real. She wanted a “vibe,” but my aunt’s bank account was screaming “no.” We needed to pull off a budget princess party for teen expectations that didn’t look like a toddler’s playdate at a pizza parlor. In Austin, everything costs a fortune now,…
My living room looked like a tiger had literally exploded in it. Orange fur—thankfully fake—was stuck to the baseboards, and there was a sticky trail of red frosting leading from the kitchen island all the way to the playroom. It was April 12th, 2024, the day of Sam’s 4th birthday, and I was losing my…
Twenty-four nine-year-olds in a small classroom is a recipe for a disaster if you don’t have a plan for the liquids. I learned this the hard way on October 12, 2024, during our third-grade “Harvest Hoedown” at my elementary school here in Houston. I thought I was being clever by buying those flimsy, thin paper…
I am still finding tiny purple wings in the carpet of Room 4B, three months after our spring flutter fest. My vacuum cleaner sounds like it’s chewing on gravel every time I hit the corner near the reading rug. That is the reality of using butterfly birthday confetti in a room full of twenty-four vibrating…
The smell of burnt rubber does not usually scream “three-year-old birthday,” but in my Houston backyard last April, it was the only thing cutting through the humidity. My nephew Leo was turning three, and my sister had reached that level of parental desperation where she was considering hiring a live pony dressed as a Ferrari….
I am still finding hot pink feathers in the paws of my Golden Retriever, Cooper, after my “Malibu Mimosa” bash last Saturday, April 11, 2026. My living room in Austin currently looks like a glitter bomb went off in a plastic factory. It is glorious. Hosting a party with barbie party decorations for adults is…
My living room looked like a Goomba stomped through it. Red cups lay scattered across the rug. A single green balloon, half-deflated and sad, shivered in the draft from the front door. My son, Leo, had just turned six, and I had somehow survived the “Great Bowser Bash” of April 12, 2025. We live in…
Snow hammered against the living room window on November 12, 2023. Our Denver home was a disaster zone of ripped green wrapping paper, discarded cardboard boxes, and half-eaten square pizzas. My son, Leo, had just turned 10. We survived the absolute chaos of twenty screaming fourth graders running through my house wielding foam pickaxes. Now…
