This past weekend, I paid an insane fucking amount of money for a birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese for our 6-year-old with special needs. On a Saturday. I swear to God, I never thought I would do such a thing. To me, that place always represented horrible pizza, hyper kids and more noise than an F-15 taking off from a KISS concert. No, I don't know why a jet would be leaving a KISS concert. Maybe the pilot didn't like Gene's hair. Maybe Paul's makeup was smudged. Who cares?
As one of Romney's aides said yesterday, "Kiss my ass. This is a holy place." I am assuming they were discussing Chuck E. Cheese.
Surprisingly, I managed to remain sane throughout the entire ordeal. Even when four extra kids showed up who I wasn't expecting. The food was pretty good. Service was good. More importantly, the little dude had an awesome day. You can't really fully understand the brilliance of C.J.'s attitude and friendly face. The kid lights up an entire room when he comes in. They always notice the wheelchair or walker first, of course. Very few people are used to seeing a little kid moving around like that. But once they get past that and see his smile, it catches. Those bright eyes and full cheeks get 'em every single time.
Thursday was his actual birthday. Unlike my in-laws, my own parents not only did not send anything for his birthday... They didn't even call him on Thursday. No card, no present, no phone call. Their six-year-old disabled grandson's birthday. They realized their mistake the next day but as far as I was concerned, it was too fucking late.
For me, it takes a long time for reality to sink in. Or maybe it was just the fact that I know what a great kid C.J. is and find it hard to believe that ANYBODY could forget it was his birthday. But for his own grandparents to forget? That's so fucked up.
A few weeks ago, my parents attended a black-tie event that required an overnight stay. My Dad rented a tuxedo and my Mom bought a new evening gown. They knew months in advance and were prepared when that weekend rolled around. When they got back, she said that had a fantastic time and that it was a very elegant affair.
So when I think about the preparation that went into that trip, I can't think of a valid reason for them not making a simple phone call on their grandson's birthday. I honestly believe my parents are just assholes. This isn't the first such incident that has demonstrated their selfishness, but it is by far the most detestable. At least, it seems that way to me.
