Yesterday, Satchel became a teenager. He's been acting like one for quite a while, but now it's official.
On Saturday, we had an early celebration. He wanted to invite his three best buds over, eat a bunch of crap, play soccer at the Kroc, have a FIFA tournament at my place and then have everyone spend the night.
At Kroger, I let him pick out his supplies.
We actually had to procure the Takis at Mapco. They were essential as the loser of the FIFA tournament was going to have to snort a crushed one. (I wasn't going to let that actually happen.)
Then, he insisted that I make the pasta that my friend, Mary, gave me as a gag gift on my birthday.
After we picked everyone up, we came to my apartment and I served it up.
Within thirty seconds there was intense giggling, and everyone but Jack ate it. (Later they all asked for more.)
Around 6:00pm they headed over to the Kroc to play soccer. Jiro and I were chilling at the apartment thinking we had a nice two hours to relax. At 6:30pm, I got a teary phone call from Satchel. "I think I dislocated my wrist," he said. "Can you come pick me up?"
Satchel is the king of minor injuries, so I was pretty calm. On my way out, Jiro said, "He might be pranking you."
I pulled in front of the Kroc expecting them all to be lined up and ready to play Xbox, but no one was there. I parked and went inside to discover a very pale and teary Satchel hunched over on a bench icing his wrist. I could tell it was serious, so I instructed the other boys to stay and continue playing while I took him to Minor Med. If we were lucky we could be in and out before the Kroc closed and continue with the party.
Thanks to the awesome people at Minor Med, my plan basically worked. The boys walked back to the apartment and a newly splinted & medicated Satchel and I met them there shortly after with pizza.
The party continued with Satchel mostly spectating. (After awhile he did attempt to play one handed.)
The FIFA tournament was anti-climactic since Satchel didn't win. Jack, who lost, ended up taking a sip of some gross drink the boys made from almond milk, sriracha, cheese, soy sauce and who knows what else, instead of snorting a Taki.
Around midnight I got the boys to turn on a movie, and Satchel was soon sacked out from his meds. That allwoed Jiro, who was originally supposed to lock himself in my room all night, to hang with the big dogs. I finally got them to sleep by 3:30am. Then, they were back at it by 8:30am.
I was sent for donuts, then I took everyone home. Satchel immediately started negotiating for a "do over" once he got his cast off, but I told him that 4 boys was too many to have at my place and to talk to his dad!
On Monday, I took him to get a real cast and it helped his overall pain tremendously. And he got to miss school, which always makes him happy.
Tuesday, the actual day, was much better and we got up early so he could have a latte before school. (I know, right?)
AFter school we went to the Snowden v White Station soccer game to see all of our friends play. It was super exciting and went to a shoot out. Then we ended the birthday celebration with a family dinner at Sekisui.
This is what I posted on Facebook yesterday:
Celebrating 13 years of motherhood with this dude. Those assholes who tell you, "it goes by so fast," do not lie! He went to school with a caramel macchiato and a pocket full of Sharpies. I asked that he please not let his friends draw penises on his cast. He's excited about going to the Snowden v White Station game tonight and then getting to stuff himself with sushi at Sekisui. I love him so much. Even when he acts like a punk. Happy Birthday, Satchel!
Edited to add:
I just found this list I was keeping on my phone of Satchel's birthday requests he made throughout the year:
Rent a pink Hummer limo and drive to Lamberts
Phone with service
Go to Kroc without Jiro
Take all friends to Moe's
Apartment all to himself
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