party_time ovenbird The invitation is written in orange crayon: ——————————————————- You are invited to the 7:30 PM party in the basement! (make sure to show your invitation) ——————————————————- I follow a series of signs that direct me down the stairs where I find a list of party attractions: ——————————————————- Keep the balloon up Dancing Snacks Music ——————————————————— I don’t generally enjoy a party, but this one delivers everything it promises. My daughter is acting as the DJ and has Lady Gaga on the stereo. There’s an abundant supply of chips and dip. The dance floor has been decorated with strings of Christmas lights and everyone takes turns doing silly dances. The balloons are in short supply because most of them popped earlier when the party goers were stuffing them under their shirts, pretending to be pregnant. But a few remain, and Balloon World Cup is well underway. I sit in the chair my mother rocked me in when I was a baby and think there can’t possibly be a better party than this. At night I finally sleep, laughter having cured me of the fear that settled in my lungs and refused to let me rest. 260723 what's it to you? who go blather from