One birthday party for my son was planned as a spooky hamburger party. The spookiness was professionally taken care of by my daughter, who decorated the whole house with plastic spiders, beetles, bats and other cheerfulness, and tied my old cast-iron coffee mill securely up with fake spider webs. They also dressed up appropriately. There is a picture of my son standing in a black cloak, scythe in hand, at the window by the door with a reproachful frown on his face: the guests were late.
I had to organize the food. No wacky home cooking allowed, what shall the other kids think. (more…)