Hizzle Pizzle World

We were going to do that thing where you lie to the kids about why they're going to the airport, and then you get to the gate, and you're like, GUESS WHAT, FOOLS!  YOU'RE GOING TO HARRY POTTER WORLD!  And then they run around screaming and pulling their hair out and you catch it all on video and win a prize.  A video prize.  Then a parenting prize.

But I was telling my friend N. about this plan yesterday and she reminded me that, um, hello, my older kid is one of those kids who needs transitions.  Like, she needs a five minute warning if you are asking her to move to another room, much less asking her to get on a plane and go to another state to have a completely overwhelming sensory experience featuring the one literary character about whom she knows more than any other human being on the planet.

Right.

But I'm the kind of parent who still has to fuck with her kids sometimes and who might have a few drinks and then hatch up a last-minute-plan for surprising her kids and husband about a huge vacation she bought on the d-l.

Short version made long:  I went out for happy hour with the ladies, and on my way home called E., and he says he's taking the girls to Macaroni Grill for dinner, and I'm like aw, yeah.  So I race home to get these:

  Harry Potter Invite by Jen Davies Schneider

and this:

and burst into Macaroni Grill like my pants were on fire.  Luckily, at that crazy place, they're always hiring drama students who were more than willing to 1) scout out the table where E. and the girls were sitting 2) hang out behind their table while I approached, groaning and dragging my foot like a deranged soccer mom zombie 3) shout "Look out for that Dementor!" as I staggered toward them and then 4) "Expecto Patronum!" as I collapsed onto the floor, while 5) placing the invitations on the girls plates.

E. said he was in so much shock he didn't know what to do, but that there was a table of elderly diners next to us who about had heart attacks.

I also totally ruined the dinners of all the families sitting nearby, whose children looked down at their lame-ass breadsticks and were like, this is not a trip to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter.

As predicted, Addie cried, because our trip will take place the same week she is supposed to make a presentation in class.  We already cleared this with her teacher, and she can make the presentation when she gets back, but she still said she wasn't going to go on the trip because she didn't want to miss her presentation.

This morning she did wake up excited.

Some kids just need a little transition time.

Addie, Nolie, and me with our Macaroni Grill Wizard.  Yes, that is a lightning-shaped scar on my forehead.