Who's Party Is It Anyway?

We love our neighbors!  And I think that when they planned their kids' combined birthday party, they were in for more that they bargained.  Attending this party was a good education for me, and I'm certain it will affect my kids' future birthday parties.  At the outset, I should mention that I was very impressed with how conscious of the children one of the mom's was in planning the snacks and food and, initially, the music and activities.  But as the party went on, there were several indications that the kids may not have been the primary consideration in the planning or at least the execution.  The music switched from Disney and children's music to R&B and Lady Gaga, some of which included swearing, most of which was inappropriate, and all of which was loud enough to rattle windows.  The face painter turned out to be a body painter, whose binder of options that he freely distributed to adults and children alike, included pictures that made at least one mother gasp and send her little boy away.  Luckily, she tipped us off, and our kids didn't want face paint anyway, except for a little butterfly on our daughter's face, which we were able to request without looking at the binder.  Finally, the parent-child ratio in the "play room" quickly diminished as the adults migrated up to another room to drink and talk.  Those of us left interacting with our kids and getting headaches from the bass were left to watch the rest  of the kids change from children to Tasmanian devils pumped up on sugar.  The same mother who gasped before, gasped again as her son got trampled to the ground, and said, "We should just leave."  And she did.  My wife and I looked at each other, grateful that we were not the only ones who questioned whether we were on another planet, decided to leave too.  The hosts weren't around, so we wished the kids happy birthdays, grabbed a few cupcakes, and went home.  When we ate the cupcakes in our quiet home, we sang "Happy Birthday" to honor our neighbor friends, since we were missing the real cake and ice cream at the party.  In the back of my head, I can still hear the faint sound of a sub woofer.  My take-aways from this experience post probably go without saying.