So your kid wants to go to a birthday party, a staple of happy childhood memories.
Which is cool because you know they have the best BFF in the universe and you could use a child-free afternoon.
Oh shit, the RSVP says "Parents Welcome" which is code for "Socially unacceptable to kick them out of the car as you drive by."
Which means...two hours in an enclosed space with other parents.
Time to man up. If you go to their party, they'll have to come to yours. Parent Law. You can do this. For your child's social future.
You get to the party, and your kid is instantly like...
Stranding you alone in a group of adults you'd never socialize with if you hadn't all shot babies out of your lady parts in the same year.
You attempt small talk.
Only to discover your opposing viewpoints on literally everything from child-rearing to favorite television show.
Then someone brings up church. Or politics.
Oh thank God, the food's here. Time to check in with your kid.
"Are you having a good time? Yes? Are you sure? Because we can go. I don't mind, we can totally go. I'll take you to get ice cream. Oh you want to stay? Oh...okay."
Did that...did that parent just cut up a nine-year-old's pizza into bite sized pieces? Judging. Them.
Did...did one of those uppity bitches just try to parent your kid?
Can we please just sing happy birthday to this little shit so we can all eat cake and go home?
Great, time for presents. Where everyone will try to guess how much you spent on the gift and judge you accordingly.
And just when you think you can't go on...
The party host announces that time is up and thanks everyone for coming.
And while everyone else makes empty promises about getting coffee, you grab your kid and are like "Thanks for having us."
You did it! You made it through the valley of the shadow of parenting.
