Toasted

So Grumpy blogged about a party we went to on Friday night. He didn't mention the argument we got into with this pipsqueak lawyer - ahem, articled clerk - who tried to tell us, on the subject of high-rises, that the dimensions of a building couldn't be judged as part of its aesthetics.
What kind of wanker party was it anyway???

Then on Saturday it was The Rooster's birthday, so a convivial crowd gathered Chez Burp to celebrate. That was a good night.

- We got elocution lessons from Bay Leaf on the correct pronunciation of chimenea.
- There were kids running around, ignoring their parents and bugging The Burp for drinks and snacks. Then their parents were all bugging The Burp to check if it was okay if the kids did this or that. Eventually The Burp broke down under the weight of expectation and, you know, heavy alcohol consumption, and said, "I couldn't really give a maldicion what they do." I didn't go back the next day to see if the house was still standing.
- Carrington made an enormous cake that didn't have a balloon in the middle! The Burp and her sister-in-law, Bette Midler, were convinced the cake could only be so tall if it contained a balloon. After we'd sung happy birthday and The Rooster was plunging the knife in, the two of them were kind of hanging back waiting to see who got covered in exploding cake.
- The Rooster showed us his go kart. I'll post a photo later. He is so A Real Man.
- At some point, after The Burp had showed off her little party trick called The Three Tongue Twister (which she learnt in Grade 5 from some boy), there was a highly intellectual and somewhat slurred discussion about genetics. It turns out there was this guy at uni, right, he was a mature age student, right, and he only found out in his late 20s that he was adopted because in genetics they'd talked about ear lobes and his ear lobes were different to his parents' (ear lobes). There were then many helpful suggestions about what you should think about if you were going to adopt and not tell your kid they were adopted. Like blood type and eye colour. "Also," said Grumpy, "If you're white, adopting an Asian kid might be a bit of a dead give away."

Like me, Bette Midler was off the alcohol for the night. Unlike me, Bette Midler is tres sportif. She was refraining from the demon drink for the sake of a netball game she was playing the next morning. She was totally going to waste some suckahs. I pity those suckahs.