Girls don't puke pink

I think I’ll just come out and say it, I dread other kid’s birthday parties.
I always have my own kid’s parties at home because attending other children’s soirees at indoor adventure centres is, for me, a bit like having forks poked in your eyes on the seventh circle of hell.
Now I know that many parents feel having their parties at these establishments is fabulous (and it is – I’m just a whingy old bag) but for me surly teenagers dressed up as a clowns and cheap chicken nuggets do not a fun time make.
Took the kids to a birthday party the other day at such an establishment, which, in all honesty, was pretty crazy.
Perhaps I’ve led a sheltered life, perhaps it’s old age creeping up on me but the music was too loud, the lights too flashy and the sugar too easy to come by. I had a headache within five minutes.
It may have been the strobe lighting – which I’m told is all the rage at six-year-old’s parties – or the rave-style music but my oldest boy Daniel threw up on the dance floor.
Whilst trying to put flashbacks of my disco attending days at Derry’s finest dancing establishments out of my mind I noticed a strange phenomenon – puking seems to be contagious in the under-10s.
When our Dan hurled on the dance floor the little dude dancing next to him hurled too, then the little girl next to him threw up, the chap next to her just wretched a bit but didn’t puke. The dance floor was like a sea of regurgitated chicken nuggets and cake. (Sorry if you’re eating your lunch while reading this. Stop now, enjoy the rest of your chicken nuggets and pick up again here when you’re done).
It’s a safe bet that Daniel won’t be invited back to that particular friend’s party next year. I dare say the mothers think he’s too much of a loose canon.
On the way home my middle lad wasn’t fazed by the domino puking he had witnessed and was more amazed that little girl’s puke wasn’t pink, as he had long thought, and was in fact the same colour as boys puke. So not only was our party experience fun but educational as well.
Our lads took part in the school sports day on Friday. In the run up to it they were both a little apprehensive that they might lose a race and look silly, especially since me and their Daddy would be cheering them on by the sidelines.
I did what most mums would in such a scenario and gave them a gentle pep talk on the way to school. It went a little something like this…
Daniel: “What if we lose?”
Me: “You won’t lose”
Dan: “But what if we do?”
Me: “Look lads, it’s like this. You are both O’Neills, that’s a proud name. Generations of O’Neills before you put their heart and souls into everything they did. Feel the weight of your ancestors upon you today when you go out to the field behind the canteen. Bring me back the medals for the spud and spoon race or don’t come home at all.”
Dan: “OK”.