The Boo Ball

Every year our preschool throws a magnificent fundraiser boo ball.  The hall is decked out in Halloween fare, the kids (and lots of their parents) arrive dressed in costumes.  A DJ plays kid friendly music, and they dance the night away.  They do the limbo, the hokey pokey, and the chicken dance.  They eat healthy snacks, like bananas and cheese sticks.  

Last year I missed the boo ball because I was teaching.  This year I rearranged my schedule to make sure I made it to the boo ball, since Mr. SP has been talking about it in very excited tones for a full year.  Also, since Dr. Peds was on call, I knew I needed to make attending the boo ball work.  

There was massive excitement on boo ball day in our household.  Costumes were planned. The kidlets practiced dancing. The anticipation was over the top.

We piled in the car after my last scheduled lesson, and drove through crazy thick fog to get down the hill to the preschool.  We walked into the boo ball, and all three of my children became complete wall flowers.  I barely recognized them.  Ya Ya didn't leave my side the whole night, and The Banana was super clingy because her fever had reappeared (she was sick all last week pretty much) although we didn't realize that the fever was back at the time because the room was so incredibly hot.  Mr. Sneaky Pants really wanted to participate.  I knew this.  Dr. Peds knew this.  We tried our best to get him to participate in all the fun, but he just got angry.  His favorite friend from last year that he danced with all night at the boo ball goes to a different preschool this year.  His other good friend wasn't there.  He had reasons why he didn't want to dance with Dr. Peds or me, and reasons why he couldn't dance with any of his other friends.  He felt like a failure at the limbo.  Sarah wouldn't dance with him.

Finally, on the very last dance, he started moving and shaking and dancing like a maniac.  And then the music stopped.  The boo ball was over.  And he was heartbroken.  Completely, utterly heartbroken.  Upset with himself for not dancing sooner.  Upset that it wasn't just like last year with his same friends.  And upset that he was taller than everyone in the limbo.  Oh the tears.  Oh the drama.  Oh, my tired, tired boy, who I took home, hugged and tucked into bed.  

I was exhausted by the end of the night, wondering why in the world I bothered taking the three of them; Sarah was grumpy and mean and The Banana had some tylenol and finally zonked out.  (I felt pretty guilty about having her there when she was feeling so terrible, but when we LEFT she was fine!)

Luckily, The Banana will be in preschool next year, so we'll have a chance to attend the boo ball again, hopefully under better circumstances.  The Boo ball has a lot of great potential.  Everyone else's children seemed to be having the time of their lives.