Oh, and of course, there was the internally freaking out when anyone who hadn't Purelled in my direct line of vision was holding the baby and touching her hands. Grandma H I'm
Not to mention, one of my friends showed up and her first words to me about her daughter were, "Sorry, little S has a little cold." GREAT. Panic level orangish-red. Who am I kidding. Scarlet, blood red all the way.
Luckily my BFF and frequent bum-bum blog commenter chesea was there, and talking to her distracted me and calmed me down. :)
Here are some snapshots of the day. I simply have to include a bunch unrelated to my OCD, because they're so damn cute, but then I've included all the ones with Purell in the shots, kind of as your OCD-Where's-Waldo, to make it apropos to this blog.
My ridiculous attempt at a frog cake, which Maya insisted she wanted:
Frog cupcakes. I couldn't control the squirty frosting thing very well. The unevenness and asymmetry of this arrangement also triggers some form of OCD in me as well, let it be known.
My beauty doing the Pee-Pee Dance:
My beauty doing the Bum-Bum Dance:
My beauty standing still for a milisecond.
BAM! PURELL! Hint hint much??
Pin the tail on the donkey. Birthday girl goes first:
And she nails it (actually I think she hung it on Eeyore's ballsack. Bygones).
OK, now can you Spot the Purells?
And finally, shouldn't blowing out candles be outlawed about now? I mean come on. What an outdated, totally gross tradition. We're in Twenty-oh-eleven now. People should really come with their own thingymabob that douses candles, and there should be no huffing and effluvia involved.
Luckily my kid was healthy as a healthy horse, but I ca-RINGE at this part of every other birthday party. I MEAN GROSS.
Anyway. There you have it. Cute kids, frogs, FWPs, and Purell. It was a fun day, but when I got home I had to take five Xanax, 10,000 units of Vitamin D, and then disinfect all the toys she got with Clorox wipes.