Moving On

We celebrated Dougie’s 2nd birthday in kindergarten today. Sorry Dougs. It all started way back in the beginning of the month when I mentioned how it was weird that three out of the five girls had birthdays in November and all the boys’ had birthdays in January, even Dougie! It was just an honest observation. The next question out of their mouths, “Oh, Dougie!! What day is his birthday?” Okay, I could answer that. “Umm…[looking at the calendar to pick a date far, far in the future] not til the 23rd.” Phew, they would never remember that. Oh, but they did. Yesterday, during our Morning Meeting when calendar is done, we put up the 22 under Monday. Then, one of them, and that’s all it took, shouted, “Tomorrow is Dougie’s birthday!!” The chorus of questions followed, “Are we going to have a party for Dougie? Everyone else gets a party!” and “How old will Dougie be?” and “I can’t wait to see Dougs tomorrow!”

So when four o’clock came, I found myself turning left towards the store instead of right towards home to get some party stuff for Douglas’ birthday party (He’s now two, by the way). A reoccurring question throughout my entire shopping experience was, How did I get myself into this??

I had to put Dougie’s transport box out and in front of the door when I got home from party stuff shopping so I wouldn’t, God forbid, forget the rodent. And I didn’t. Everyone happily greeted “the birthday boy” today after eyeing the table covered with a red tablecloth (because red is Doug’s favorite color…yeah, don’t ask…) filled with birthday goodies. The kids sang Happy Birthday as they opened up their “Happy Birthday” napkins so I could put cheese curls and candy sprinkles on them, while Dougs got a carrot and some apple slices. Dougie even bought them plastic leys to wear during the party What a nice, thoughtful guinea pig.

Anyway, Douglas was more than happy to return to the safety and serenity of his cage when we got home today. I know because he was making that purring noise he does when he’s happy. Poor, poor Dougie. I wonder if he understands, I’m sorry.