Molli Malou had her birthday party a month early this
year – June 1, at Værløse Svømmehal, from about three until six in the
afternoon. It was a perfect day for a swim party: sunny, cloudless, and in the high eighties Faherenheit (29C).
year – June 1, at Værløse Svømmehal, from about three until six in the
afternoon. It was a perfect day for a swim party: sunny, cloudless, and in the high eighties Faherenheit (29C).
Unfortunately the restrictive policies of the swim hall
mean there are no pictures, but since this blog has photographic evidence of
every single birthday party ever held for Molli Malou, and since the monthly
blog update for June won’t appear until July, I thought the occasion deserved
recognition in its own post.
mean there are no pictures, but since this blog has photographic evidence of
every single birthday party ever held for Molli Malou, and since the monthly
blog update for June won’t appear until July, I thought the occasion deserved
recognition in its own post.
Trine and Vibeke gathered the 17 guests (including the
guest of honor and her little sister) from school and walked them over to the
swimhall, where I was waiting with all the bracelets required for access to the
locker rooms and pool. It was all very
well arranged and meticulously executed, except we somehow found ourselves with
one bracelet too many after all the kids had made their way into the locker
room. Who was missing? Who had been left behind? There was brief panic among the adults until
a sheepish Theodor came shuffling out of the men’s locker room to tell us he’d
never gotten his bracelet. (The kids had
just swarmed through the turnstile,
most of them without using their encoded bracelets, which would cause a lot of
complication on the way out; we hadn’t known this and had therefore assumed
that since no kid could get into the locker room without a bracelet, a leftover
bracelet meant a missing kid. It all
sounds very innocuous, but if you’ve ever experienced the feeling of having
lost someone else’s kid, you realize it was not.)
guest of honor and her little sister) from school and walked them over to the
swimhall, where I was waiting with all the bracelets required for access to the
locker rooms and pool. It was all very
well arranged and meticulously executed, except we somehow found ourselves with
one bracelet too many after all the kids had made their way into the locker
room. Who was missing? Who had been left behind? There was brief panic among the adults until
a sheepish Theodor came shuffling out of the men’s locker room to tell us he’d
never gotten his bracelet. (The kids had
just swarmed through the turnstile,
most of them without using their encoded bracelets, which would cause a lot of
complication on the way out; we hadn’t known this and had therefore assumed
that since no kid could get into the locker room without a bracelet, a leftover
bracelet meant a missing kid. It all
sounds very innocuous, but if you’ve ever experienced the feeling of having
lost someone else’s kid, you realize it was not.)
The kids had a blast in the water. They got about an hour of swimming before it
was time for boller and juice; then
cake was served while Molli opened her presents. A lot of kids gave money this year; this is a
new and welcome development. It makes a
lot of sense: you can’t buy much of a present for 20-30 kroner (3-5 bucks),
which is the agreed upon range for gift prices, but getting 20-30 kroner from a
whole bunch of guests can add up. Plus
it’s easier for parents to hand their kids a handful of kroner than to shop for
presents.
was time for boller and juice; then
cake was served while Molli opened her presents. A lot of kids gave money this year; this is a
new and welcome development. It makes a
lot of sense: you can’t buy much of a present for 20-30 kroner (3-5 bucks),
which is the agreed upon range for gift prices, but getting 20-30 kroner from a
whole bunch of guests can add up. Plus
it’s easier for parents to hand their kids a handful of kroner than to shop for
presents.
After the food and presents came another ninety
minutes of swimming. Some of the kids
invented a game of jumping off the high diving board (three meters) with a ball
in hand, then trying to throw the ball, while in mid-air, between the “uprights”
represented by the two wires holding up the (furled) climbing wall that is
sometimes lowered into the pool. Molli
Malou was astonishingly good at this – she not only split the uprights every
time, the balls she tossed nearly cleared the length of the Olympic pool. In fact she made it look so easy I gave it a
try myself and found, like her peers, that it was not in fact as easy as it
looked. (I was way wide left and my ball
only made it about two-thirds the length of the pool.) What an arm she has, and what agility!
minutes of swimming. Some of the kids
invented a game of jumping off the high diving board (three meters) with a ball
in hand, then trying to throw the ball, while in mid-air, between the “uprights”
represented by the two wires holding up the (furled) climbing wall that is
sometimes lowered into the pool. Molli
Malou was astonishingly good at this – she not only split the uprights every
time, the balls she tossed nearly cleared the length of the Olympic pool. In fact she made it look so easy I gave it a
try myself and found, like her peers, that it was not in fact as easy as it
looked. (I was way wide left and my ball
only made it about two-thirds the length of the pool.) What an arm she has, and what agility!
The kids all scrambled out of the pool a little early
so they’d have time for the saunas before the 18:00 end time; I got to sit in
the sauna with Molli’s 11- and 12-year-old male classmates and listen in as they
wondered aloud what “pole dancing” was – a conversation that had started when
one of them said he had seen that someone – a peer’s mother, or the friend of a
peer’s mother — on Facebook listed their occupation as “sexolog” (sexual therapist), an observation that had elicited a lot
of entertaining (because clueless) speculation in its own right. Ultimately I had to leave the sauna to
prevent myself from laughing out loud.
so they’d have time for the saunas before the 18:00 end time; I got to sit in
the sauna with Molli’s 11- and 12-year-old male classmates and listen in as they
wondered aloud what “pole dancing” was – a conversation that had started when
one of them said he had seen that someone – a peer’s mother, or the friend of a
peer’s mother — on Facebook listed their occupation as “sexolog” (sexual therapist), an observation that had elicited a lot
of entertaining (because clueless) speculation in its own right. Ultimately I had to leave the sauna to
prevent myself from laughing out loud.
It was like a Stand
By Me out-take. I’m surprised they
didn’t get to debating what phylum of the animal kingdom Goofy belonged to.
By Me out-take. I’m surprised they
didn’t get to debating what phylum of the animal kingdom Goofy belonged to.
# # #
So dear future Molli Malou, it isn’t that after twelve
years we finally got sick of photographing your birthday parties: it’s just
that you chose a birthday party that couldn’t be photographed.
Hmm… maybe after twelve years you finally got sick and tired of having your birthday parties
photographed…?
years we finally got sick of photographing your birthday parties: it’s just
that you chose a birthday party that couldn’t be photographed.
Hmm… maybe after twelve years you finally got sick and tired of having your birthday parties
photographed…?
The words painted a picture that alleviated the need for a photograph. Wonderful stories.
AML
Dad, Pop-pop