And I don’t mean that in a sinister way… like someone would if they said it right before they were about to tell you something really bad.  I just mean the party is over.  And it was fun while it lasted.

There were decorations…



A pony ride…


(Yes, I made that hobby horse… that explains why it has a haircut like John Lennon circa 1970… that might also explain the bloodshot eyes… I must have had John Lennon on the brain when I picked out those buttons, which would be really odd since I pretty much never have John Lennon on the brain.  Except for now of course.)

And there were party hats…


And fun and games…



And cake and ice cream…

serious cake eater

which was eaten, every last crumb of it, with much vigor…

plate licker

There were friends galore…


and goody bags…



And a real live cowboy.  Sorta.  Kinda.  Not really.

cowboy in chaps


There were presents…

c with gun


There were lolly pops…

sheriff j2

And hence there were smiles…

Sheriff J

There was even a sword eating baby…

baby cowgirl

Every party should have one.  Really.  What’s a party without a sword eating baby?

A good time was had by all…


And then they all collapsed on the couch and lived like slugs for the rest of the day.  The end.

7 thoughts on “The Party's Over

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