My birthday disco

My sister had an ’80s disco for her 40th birthday. I chiselled away at her until she caved. It was a bit like when we were kids and I made her run around and around the house while I timed her with a stopwatch. Each time she arrived puffing back, I’d say: “Now see if you can do it a bit faster, GO!”. Except for her 40th, every time I saw her, I said: “I really want to dance to ’80s music. Have a party where I can do that all night, GO ON!” It was BRILLIANT. She booked upstairs at the Burdekin Hotel on Oxford Street, which was where I had my 28th birthday. Ah, memories! My sister’s friends really know how to dress up. The outfits were amazing. Someone even went as a Rubiks Cube. But my favourites were the guys with long wigs, platform shoes and leopard-print leggings with socks stuffed down the crotch. Hilarious. I danced like an absolute loon all night. Loved it. Yesterday was my 44th birthday. I had a disco. We played “You Spin Me Round Like A Record” and everything. But the party guests were six and seven-year-olds sugared up on lolly necklaces I gave them at the door. And I didn’t dance like a loon, I was too busy handing out $2 shop prizes for best “crazy dancing”. Yesterday morning, Husband ran through the playlist for the party with me and pondered whether he could include “Relax” by Frankie Goes to Hollywood. I said no, I didn’t think six-year-olds should be listening to a song that encouraged them to relax when they wanted to come. Imagine if they started singing it in the car to their parents on the way home. We got through the party without too many tears. I remained dry-eyed despite the pressure of having to ice 36 cupcakes and 1 handbag cake, plus make 36 sausage rolls before the guests arrived. One little person had a meltdown over being disqualified from the limbo and another got a balloon string paper cut (the screams, you’d think she’d been stabbed in the eye, when she finally calmed down enough to tell me what happened, I was like “Oh, balloons string paper cuts, yes, terribly painful things. Let me get you an ice pack …” and had a good, long eye roll beside the freezer to the extended soundtrack of her wails. Have I mentioned empathy isn’t my strong suit?). Husband taught everyone to do The Time Warp, which was very entertaining. Then we ran out of activities and prizes 20 minutes before the party was due to end, which was a bit harrowing. But we limped through until the parents arrived. And then I was like, shite, when am I going to get a chance to blog before I go out to dinner with Husband as MY birthday treat? So I snuck off and left the cleaning to him. He was chatting to his sister, I don’t think he noticed I was gone … As I typed, Temptation played in the lounge room. And I thought, bugger the stuffed dog shop idea, I want to open an ’80s bar so I can groove every night to tragic ’80s music.