My daughter will turn six next Tuesday.
Naturally we are in the midst of throwing together a princesses pizza party in the park to mark the occasion and scrambling around town to every toy retailer trying to find the very specific Polly Pocket set that she has so fervently and repeatedly requested.
Her birthday dinner menu has been firmed up. Chicken. Rice. And Broccoli. But not chicken with sauce, or onions, or crust. Ew.
In addition to the Polly Pocket stuff, I've pulled together a little "spa" basket for her with all the pink and purple pampering items I could find that were appropriate for a kindergartener. Including fuzzy purple spa socks.
I even bought her a special new outfit and a little ribbon to wear to school on her birthday that says "It's my 6th Birthday!"
In short, all of our attention in the last two weeks or so has been focused on the date of my little girl's birth. March 9th.
Imagine my surprise then when I picked Elizabeth up from school yesterday and she strolled out of her classroom wearing a giant birthday crown on her head.
"Why are you wearing a crown? It's not your birthday," I said.
She shrugged.
Her teacher said, "It's not her birthday? I must have written it down wrong!"
Whoops!
Apparently, 4s and 9s look more similar than any of us could have possibly anticipated.
"Did the kids sing Happy Birthday to you?" I asked Elizabeth as we walked back to the car.
"Uh huh! We did it at circle time," she said.
"Honey, why didn't you tell your teacher that it is NOT your birthday today?"
"I dunno," she said.
Sigh.
I guess we just call that one a practice run and go on with our celebration on her ACTUAL birthday.
I wonder if they'll sing to her again or if that's just too much. I feel bad for her! Now her real birthday is gonna be a real drag!
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