Once I was invited to a pinata party. It was a terrible idea of course, but they didn't know me very well at the time. Now most mothers are kind of concerned putting sticks in their childrens' hands, but none more so than my own mother. The reason for this may have involved something about my father's pool cue and a hot coal that looked particularly like a number eight. My Mom would have never let me go to the party, probably because of the rising ambulance fees, so my solution was to simply not tell her that it involved pinatas. And so I went.
The thing that preteens soon find out about life is that you can't have your own pinata and whack it too. You can whack curtains, door handles, Ming vases, and even Uncle Joe, but you cannot whack your own pinata. And then suddenly when you take off your blindfold you come to the realization that old Mom is kind of right about everything. What was actually terrifying was not the immediate carnage as much as the thought that I couldn't possibly fix it all. Good old Uncle Joe chalked his battering up to his manliness, but the Ming vases and cabinet glass, etc. was way beyond ten years of my piggy bank savings. And then I saw that I hadn't only ruined my own fun, but everyone else's fun. I had totally gone against my parents, and did the party thing on my own, and now I was looking around at shocked faces, none more shocked than mine. My heart just kind of sank, and I had some stupid thoughts running through my mind like it's not all that bad, or I didn't really mean to do this, or I can apologize, it'll be all good, but I knew I was being completely dumb.
I don't really remember too much what happened after, I'm not actually sure I even asked my parents how they paid for all the stuff I broke. The only thing I remember was good old Dad picking me up, and me feeling like a pile of scrap metal, streaming tears, and me saying Dad I'm sorry I ruined everybody's party, and I didn't even tell you and Mom. And Dad saying Livi you can't ever pay for this, that's why I'm going to.
Dad, not sure what you're up to today on Easter Sunday. I guess you're out, because I couldn't get hold of you. Just wanted to thank you for paying for all the stupid things I did that day. It wasn't until many years later that I realized what you meant by it.