party on

I laughed yesterday when I looked at my last posting: "peace out". peace. out. Peaceful was not my weekend. Saturday night thirteen, 8 year olds descended upon our little bungalow for a sleep over. Did you get that? 13 people, plus two of my own all under the age of 9. The high pitch squeals and unbridled energy, had my eyes spinning within the first hour { the patience of school teachers never fails to impress me }. Keep in mind these two variables to this equation: tiny house, no yard. Holy crap. We made it and I'm only, today- Tuesday, coming out of the stupor.

I would love to continue by posting beautiful photos of a long table filled with galvanized buckets of daisies or maybe small clutches of pink carnations held tightly by vintage McCoy vases parading down the center. Perhaps each chair with a polka-dot covered slip, and a pink balloon floating above.

absolutely beautiful things

And a table of food, spread with varying levels of cake stands, each presenting, tea sandwiches, and artisan cupcakes, with little pointed toothpick flags sticking out of the top. Adorably themed goody bags that only the other mothers would ooh and ahh over.

but, alas, my client shot down all of these dreamy ideas and instead, asked for a grainy, sugary cake { 'a white cake' } from our local beach bakery. 'and I want pictures of the dogs on it, please'

{aww, why ya hafta go and make it so easy on me.}

So, here you go:

{All of you party bloggers, feel free to use this shot - no cred. necessary . actually, no cred please.}

The cake was devoured, sleep was had, and even yesterday my house still smelled of cheap frosting and spilled juice boxes.

Mark it down as another successful, beach bungalow bash.