Dear Big Girl:

You love to party. Today I abused that fact. I needed to pick up my computer from the geniuses (if they are so genius, why did they pick the MALL as their location?). So, I tell you that we are going to a party. You were so keen on going to a party that you took party hats, 22 of them, to show and tell today. Surely there is SOMETHING at the mall that a toddler will think of as a party. Not. One. Thing. This is where my travel history has tainted me, baby. It seems, everywhere other than Austin, Texas, has small children just like you. San Antonio. China. Italy. Dallas Airport. Hamilton Place Mall. But, not Austin. Keep yer dirty childs at home or the four establishments in town that do not train their waitstaff to groan when you walk through the door.

Sufficed to say, you noticed that the party was absent.

Then you wept. You didn’t whine. You wept. I let you down. I didn’t mismarket; I lied.

Fear not wee one, for guilt feeds my creativity. I know I am stating what is obvious to you.

When we arrived home, we partied with the supplies at hand.







We even invited some little friends.

Thank you for holding me to my promise, sweet baby. I am happy to slow down and party with you anytime.