Sunday Denial

I admit, Sundays in the backyard are kind of sacrosanct to Bea and myself, so we were a little dismayed at the notion of leaving it. But it was a family birthday party, which means Mom was making her famous Million Layer Chocolate and Coffee Cream Cake, and we are nothing if not flexible partiers, so we put together a few nibblies, mixed up a couple bottles of "hooch" and headed out. (Did I mention this meant no cooking dinner? Always a perk!)

The weather was most accomodating and the view from the back deck was pretty nice:

The kids got out some Legos to play with, and a few made it out to us. I couldn't resist trying one on for the Grand Inquisitor look:

Our gracious host, the birthday girl, and our lovely hostess:

I worry every day that my parents will discover my blog and all the fun of posting pictures of them will end. See, he has no idea this is going to be published!

Bea and her buddy realize yet again they have matching shades and share a contemplative moment digging the funky warp power of this most awesome eyewear.
The kids managed to have fun too,
though the Professor did splay himself most convincingly out from the slide,
and the Bohemian sustained a rotator cuff injury, but what is the price of fun, people?
There were a few sweet moments in between the mini-dramas.
We gathered and sang Happy Birthday as only this crowd can do - well, us and Ethel Merman, if that tells you anything. (If it doesn't, you are woefully ignorant of American Stage Icons and its not my problem - go look her up in Wikipedia, for crying out loud!) I do think the birthday girl enjoyed her serenade, though its doubtful her hearing will ever be the same! (Mmm, cake...!)
No pinatas or Blind Man's Bluff for this crowd, but a rousing game of Bocce was enjoyed. I'm just sorry Ms. Q. wasn't there to quote from "Splash" - she would have relished the opportunity, I know. I think the birthday girl has just thrown out her arm in this picture, but look at the serious concentration on these guys faces!
The Bohemian wonders what all the fuss is about.
The moment of truth in measuring the distance of the thrown balls looks a lot like someone has just lost their keys or a contact.
We had a great time and managed to get our drink on, both figuratively and physically. The physical wearing of the rum drinks was done by yours truly, and you better believe I spread it around - I was awfully glad I was wearing Crocs, so I could just rinse them off afterwards! Hope you had a great weekend too!