Pre Party Mini Saga

Today was birthday party day for my son - 6 years old. I had booked a party at the nearest bowling alley, an easy 5 minute drive. Before leaving I just happened to look out the window. Uu Oh, the neighbor guy is salting the road...just to get BACK to his driveway. The neighbor boy is out in the road with his hockey stick and puck. Crap!

A light drizzle in just freezing temps was creating quite a nice ice rink of the roads. On top of that, we live on an end moraine (a glacial dumping ground) making our neighborhood a series of hills and pockets and turns. My only hope was to get to the top of the hill right outside our house (a 6 house stretch), then it would level off to to the highway entrance, and we would be on our merry way.

Well - I'm not shy about asking and off to the neighbors I went. First to the one with the hockey boy (they usually have something, the dad was a fireman), then to the one with salt. Half a bag of grit, and a bag of salt later I was ready to make my attempt.

Get in the car, Now, NOW! I screamed at Peter.

We made it to the top of the hill, we made it out to the highway. We started on our way and I laughed out loud - Hope we didn't forget anything!

Shit - I forgot Yoda's ears!!!!

Boy starts crying.

Without the ears, the cake is just a weird looking green head. We must go back.

I go around the freeway loop-de-loop. I drive just into our neighborhood, park the car in the road, put the boy on the top of the nearest snowbank (in case another car hits my car), and start running home. I'm not a runner, but I don't want to chance the hill with my car again. Plus I don't know where I'd turn around. My driveway (which is also a hill) is a sheet of ice too.

I get home, get the ears, and start running back to the car. The boy meets me halfway, crying. He's forgotten his birthday crown from school.

I do not turn back.

Disclaimer: My husband is the cake-baker in our house.