Keep Daddy away from the iPod

Photo by M. Noe Photography

Today our family friend Claire turns seven, and I’m so happy I’ve been a part of her life for the past five years. When she reminisces about her childhood I’d like to think I’ll be one of the people she recalls. She’ll probably just remember Michael, Amy and Rebecca, but hopefully she’ll have a memory or two of the nice lady who drove the fun kids to her house.

One of those memories may be from her seventh birthday party. Rebecca and I made the trek over to the east side of the state on Saturday to attend Claire’s Tie Dye Birthday Party. Molly, my dear friend and Claire’s mom, came up with tons of tie dye stuff, from tie dye shirts to tie dye cake and ice cream. It was quite a soiree and was made even more eventful thanks to the presence of the birthday girl’s dad, Jeff.

Jeff's shirt

It all started with the tie dying. Molly gave us excellent directions. Step one, dampen the shirt. Molly had a big plastic bin with just enough water to get the shirts wet. The girls dutifully dipped their shirts in and proceeded to twist the shirts like Molly showed us in step two. Jeff, however, decided to not only not dampen his shirt but he also did not twist the shirt like Molly suggested. Oh, no. He had to go with the purely phallic-style twist. When it was suggested he get his shirt a tad wet before applying the color, he pooh-poohed the idea and told us his would be just fine because no one could tell him exactly why it would be better for the shirt to be slightly damp before adding the dye. Engineers…

We finished the shirts and headed upstairs to open gifts. Jeff turned on some music, which turned out to be a random mix from his iPod featuring Johnny Cash and Van Halen and Heart among others. The music was good, Claire was having a great time opening gifts, her guests were patient and attentive. But for whatever reason there was a lull in the activity at the exact moment John Mayer’s hit from 2003 piped through the speakers. One of my unmarketable skills (and I have many) is that I can name most tunes in five notes or less. So in a matter of seconds I knew all the little girls were going to hear Mr. Mayer sing about someone’s body being a wonderland. A better mom would have discreetly gotten up, changed the song and not mentioned it. I am not that mom. I laughed. In my defense, I did try to stifle my laugh a bit, but I let the song keep playing.

Rebecca and Claire working on their shirts.

By the time Jeff figured out what song was serenading his seven year old as she opened Lucky, her Webkins puppy all he could do was say, “Molly, Molly, Molly!” Molly, more interested in her daughter than the background noise, was oblivious and wasn’t sure why Jeff was calling her name. When she finally realized what Jeff wanted, she didn’t just skip to the next song; she turned the whole thing off. I’m fairly sure she gave him a good ol’ glare, but I can’t be sure.

Turning it off altogether turned out to be a good call, because when he started it back up Carrie Underwood was singing about a bleach-blonde tramp and a guy wearing bathroom Polo getting lucky.

Not the best playlist for the seven year old set, but I’m pretty sure I just found a DJ for my 41st birthday bash.