Eight Years for Abigail

This past Sunday was Abigail’s eighth birthday. We had a party to celebrate that milestone, as well as to give friends an opportunity to visit with [Chris->], who was in town with his English lady friend Becky. (She was a great hit with everyone, and I kept asking her questions just to get to hear her speak.) I still haven’t gotten a complete rundown of the gifts Abigail received, but a few that stood out were a Playmobile Valkyrie from Chris (presumably because of how much she enjoyed Siegfried), a bound copy of Abigail and the Seamonster from Daniel, and a handmade stuffed Seamonster, based on the one in the story, from Christina, Daniel’s sister. A tattoo maker, the origins of which are unclear to me, has also made its presence evident in the form of outbreaks of heart-shaped pox across the bodies of the youngsters.

The party was great fun, as these things inevitably are, thanks to our great assortment of relatives and friends who lend us their presence. We did in a butterfly piñata, which bore a startling resemblance to Mothra. (Chris’ friend Bruce suggested that we should get a Godzilla piñata and let them go at it.) We ate heartily, enjoyed the fine weather, and I did battle with the assembled hell-bent-for-dunking swimming pool youth.