Today is my birthday (insert fanfare music here) and it got me thinking about what might be my most memorable birthday which is actually hard.  I am not big on celebrating my birthday but I have had some fun ones with family and friends.  I tend to do something small with my favorite people and leave it at that.  I don’t do parties.  Even as a kid I wasn’t big on them.  But one party stands out to me because my parentals tried hard to make it a fun one and there was one mishap…the pinata.

I wanted a pinata so bad for my birthday and I don’t even know why.  I just know my parentals decided to fulfill this for me by making me one.  I am also unclear as to how it became a ladybug but it did.  Maybe this was the only shape they could manage or maybe I asked for it (I was a weird kid) but in any case, ladybug pinata it was.  I was so excited to have this creation and I watched as they made a chicken wire shape and used balloons to create the ladybug.   Then they proceeded to paper mache it.  Does anyone even paper mache anymore?  I remember this was such a big thing when I was a kid.  You use a mixture of water and flour or cornstarch and soak strips of newspaper in this mixture and layer them on your frame and let them dry.  It is a long process but as a kid, I thought it was the best.  What kid doesn’t like taking gooey strips of newspaper and making a ladybug?  After it was dried then it was painted and then I had to wait for my party to actually break it.  I was thrilled.  The highlight of my little life right there.

Day of the party came and to be honest, I cannot remember much except for how excited I was to smash that ladybug pinata.  Such a weird thing to let kids do.  You blindfold them, give them a bat or stick and let them swing blindly at a thing filled with candy.  Nothing could go wrong right?  Being the birthday girl, I got first shot at beating the crap out of that ladybug and I was ready.  I swung and hit that ladybug with purpose I tell ya.  I hit it hard and everyone cheered.  But I didn’t break it.  Not one crack.  Other kids got a turn, swinging that bat with all their might and not one crack.  So I got another turn and started hitting the snot out of that damn ladybug.  Nothing.  My Dad finally took off my blindfold and told me to just go at it.  I put all my might into it and did it crack?  Nope.  That ladybug wasn’t give up her delicious loot of candy.  Bitch.

My Dad looked at the ladybug and my uncles and they decided to give it a try.  So there they are…big adult men with a baseball bat beating that ladybug but did she give up the loot that was inside?  Not at all.  Not one crack.  One of my Uncles started wailing on that ladybug and wouldn’t you know it…I got too close in my excitement that he might finally crack open the pinata so I could stuff my face with candy.  Can you hear the sound of that bat hitting my skull?  Yup. That totally happened.  Knocked out at my own birthday party.  And did they get the ladybug open?  No.  I distinctly remember, despite what I am sure was a concussion, my Dad and my Uncles grabbing saws and trying to cut it open.  My parentals had done such a great job with their paper mache that the ladybug was indestructible.  You could have used that thing as a weapon I tell ya.  At some point either with the saw or by driving over it with a truck,. they finally split that ladybug in two and I was able to eat candy to my heart’s content, even if I had a traumatic brain injury from my Uncle (and no I won’t tell you which one….cousins you can guess.).  Pretty sure my parentals never wanted to make me a pinata ever again.  Nor did I ask for one.  Damn ladybug pinata.  Total fail.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I almost did when one of my Uncles gave me a traumatic brain injury with a bat, but I didn’t die.  I am the Birthday Fat Girl who had a ladybug pinata that wouldn’t give up her loot Running.  The experiment continues…