Tomorrow is my stepdaughter’s seventh birthday party. I was praying she’d want to go to a water park or an equally overly-expensive place that has nothing to do with bad video games, worse pizza, and stupid cartoon characters, all set to a cacophony of screaming humans that, after an hour, makes me want to eat 35 Tylenol and jam knitting needles in my ears.

Nope. We’re going to the Jungle. Again.

I love this place. I have fond memories of my daughter’s fifth birthday party, when some guy came after me an hour after his wife said I almost stepped on their kid and I apologized to him. He suddenly found a large intimidating friend just before we left and they decided I needed an ass-kicking. Thankfully I was able to pull off the ol’ crazy eyes and pretend that I could handle both of them with my incredible Kung Fu skill set.

Yep – can’t wait.

At least I get to go get my own 7-year-old tomorrow morning, after not seeing her for two weeks. I’m taking next week off to hang with the kiddies and go to Santa Cruz, where I can spend even more money I don’t have. But it’ll be worth it. As long as I don’t have to pull out the crazy eyes.