One of the facts of life is that the second-born child will always be outranked by his/her/their elder sibling –  the first-born. Especially when it comes to birthday parties.

In the 1930s when I was growing up, birthday parties were something only the rich kids had, and even those were few and far between. I only attended one party during my childhood.  It was that of one of my schoolmates – Dorothy – and all the little girls in my kindergarten at St. Patrick’s were invited.  I remember it well.  

Dorothy’s mother was really nice to us, even when one of the girls wet her pants. (It wasn’t me!)  We wore these little cone hats and we played musical chairs.  There was a birthday cake and ice cream and lemonade, but to me, the feature of the event was a platter of itty bitty ham-salad-sandwiches-with-the-crusts-cut-off. 

I’ll never forget that platter. Scrumptious! I was awed. Sandwiches were only supposed to come with peanut butter.  To this day, whenever I give a party, I always serve ham-salad-sandwiches-with-the-crusts-cut-off, and sometimes I even make them with real ham instead of chopped bologna.

Because I never had or went to any other parties growing up, it isn’t surprising that none of my seven children had any either.  It didn’t help that we lived in the part of Seattle called Rabbit Hill where children proliferated.  There were 99 of them living on both sides of our street and all their mothers had way too much good sense than to recklessly plan a birthday party.

When I became a grandmother, I was in for a big surprise.  It turns out that in the modern world, such occasions as children’s birthdays are not just practiced. They are a Necessity of Life. It should be observed that to a mother who’s really with the program, a child’s birthday party is one of the inalienable human rights.  It’s only in the administration of the party where the plot thickens a bit.  What I have noticed is that the birthday party of the family’s first-born child is a kind of extravaganza.  The one for the second-born is a bit more reduced in size and scope. And let’s not even discuss the ones for the third-borns.

When my grandson Bryce had his 4th birthday, the party was a memorable event.  It featured Knights and Ladies, towers, sword fights, fire-eating dragons, and a guest list which might strike fear in the hearts of many mothers less heroic than my daughter Gretchen.

The same year – about 10 months later, Bryce’s little brother had his 2nd birthday.  His name is Ford, and this is how it went at HIS party.  Click HERE to watch the video.

In case you’d like to send Ford a sympathy card or money, his email is fordcovey@gmail.com.