Yesterday, we had supersuper fun at Clay's second birthday party! We decided to go with a cowboy theme this year, so we had cute little western invitations printed up. (All "Mosey on down to the Remington Ranch!" and "We're plumb tickled about our second year of cattle rustlin'!")
We went to Boots and More last week and got all cowboyed up - hats, big belts, western shirts, the whole bit. Clay had these cute little boots already, so we bought him a hat and a sherrif's star and called it good. We decorated the house to the hilt and even pulled his rocky horse into the den. To keep with the theme, we served guacamole and salsa con queso with chips, then beef and veggie kabobs with tater logs, then the most awesome cowboy-themed cake I've ever seen and ice cream.
But what I thought ws the true success of the party was the music. Clay is named after my grandfather, who loved the epic idea of The West. He read Louis L'Amour, he watched old Westerns on TV, and he even listened to cowboy music. When we were little, I remember us dancing with him to a few particular cowboy songs when we'd visit in the summers. I didn't know the artist, and I could only remember a few snatches of lyrics here and there. But that, my friends, is the beauty of the Internet. I typed in what I knew, and out popped my answer. Marty Robbins: Gunfighter Ballads and Trail Songs. I had it playing when my family came to the party, and they all recognized it. We all danced to it, and it made me feel a little bit like Pawpaw was there.
(Pawpaw didn't live long enough to meet Clay, and it's such a shame. He would have gotten such a kick out of him. Pawpaw loved kids. He sang funny made-up songs, put on puppet shows with just his hands, and was a cut-up in general. I know that, had he met him, he would have thought the world of Clay, and vice versa.)
Anyhoo, we ate all the good food, Clay was very impressed by his cake, and we opened presents. I outfitted all of our little guests with hats and bandanas, and Uncle Steven brought guns and handcuffs to complete the transformation. Cousins Tanner and Caleb practiced their outlaw faces, and I think everybody had a pretty boot stompin' time!
Hmmmmm . . . what'll we do NEXT year?!