Sounds like the title of a very disturbing news article, doesn’t it? Happily, no. It is our life right now.
Our baby. The youngest. She is now 8. We celebrated with her friends, yesterday.
The party was a blast. We ate some “pioneer type food” like popcorn and corn bread and soup. Then the kids played Hot Potato to our older daughter’s fiddle playing. Then they made button necklaces and corn husk dolls.
Anyhow, we had the kids attempt to make their very own butter in glass jars with a marble in each. Unfortunately, the bottom broke off of one jar in a child’s hands (luckily she wasn’t hurt, but we were pretty freaked out) and we asked all the others to dump their cream into our Kitchen Aid so that we could mix it for them while they all ran around outside (and so we could clean up the glass and cream).
In the end, the kids went home with “dinner pails” (actually extra large restaurant sized tomato sauce cans) filled with an apple and orange, a pencil, their corn husk doll, and some butter, wearing their bonnets (bandannas for the boys).
It was a good day.
Today, we are taking the Birthday Girl out to get some pet rats.
Wish us luck!