There’s no party like a tea party.
I work seven days a week. My primary responsibility is to occupy the time of a 20 month old named Katt. Our favorite thing to do these days is to play in Asia’s room. And what a room it is. It’s got endless nooks and crannies packed with the most random things imaginable – a veritable kids version of Hoarders, but with cool stuff instead of junk. Here we are taking turns trying on a mardi gras mask and a blonde wig.
You might notice that Katt’s shirt is on backwards. Well maybe it is. She didn’t complain.
Another thing we do is play tea party in Katt’s room. Tea party is a solid game. First I pull out a stack of old 78 records and spin them on the turntable. Next we dump out the three baskets of toys we’ve stolen from Asia’s room. Then we organize the loot into piles. The most important pile is the miniature tea cup pile. We choose our cups, clink them, and squeal “cheers”. Our imaginary elixirs are then drained in a single gulp. Sated, we bellow “AHHHHHH”. Then it’s off to the next pile of semi-functional toys and whatever drama we can drum up. Those 78’s sound absolutely magical when you play tea party.