Last month, Weston turned six. We planned a cowboy-themed party, complete with pony-lassoing and a shooting gallery.However, right before the guests arrived, I found Weston lying on the steps, sick.
The children immediately began to arrive, so I decided it was a little late to cancel the big event.
Weston spent the party in a corner with a bucket, watching all the children play games, eat food, and dress like cowboys.
When I hugged him, saying, "I'm so sorry your party wasn't fun this year."
He--in his sweet way--said, "It was fun, Mommy. Just not for me."
2 comments:
I'm glad he at least got to wear a hat. Did it double as a barf bucket?
Poor Weston, what a miserable way to spend your birthday. He's such a trooper.
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