The Pirate Party
The fateful day had arrived. It was a Sunday - forget holy day or day of rest, this
was to be a day of unrest and pure wickedness. Preparations had been made all week
and on the day before the party, my boyfriend Peter and I brainstormed the coolest
Pirate antics for 5 year olds. Peter had no trouble contacting his inner child and
proceeded to construct a pirate cave with old planks of wood from my shed and lots
of climbing rope. This took a good two hours, if not more. The result was in effect,
a spacious extension to my house that looked as though it had needed planning permission
from the local council. Peter was not a man to do things by halves. In fact, this
architectural wonder had all the marks of a man obsessed. James, my son loved it.
Meanwhile, I had been attempting to design and construct our ‘Pin the sword on the
Pirate’ game. What was meant to be an innocent cartoon-like pirate for pinning became
a chilling portrait of a bandit possessed. I hoped that my Captain Vicious would
not rattle the children too much.... I could just see those poor, innocent little
5 year olds, quaking in their pirate boots at the sight of my sadistic looking rogue
in need of his hat and sword!
The other games we had pulled out of our tunic sleeves were; ‘Pass the Bomb’, otherwise
known as ‘Pass the Parcel’ and a traditional Dutch game called ‘Koek Happen’ which
translates as ‘Bite the cake’. We aptly named this game ‘Bite the Parrot’ which seemed
to go down well, as anything edible in a child’s game is bonus. We also had an active
game called ‘Shoot the Cannon’ where serving spoons and different sized balls are
used to shoot with, as well as different sized baskets to catch the canons in. The
things you can get away with at a child’s party because of those imaginations are
staggering! There was no room for pacifists here!
The doorbell rang, no turning back now. I felt a mixture of trepidation and anticipation
for what was to be James’ first children’s birthday party. After all, I was co-responsible
for this momentous milestone and the added pressure of hoping that this pirate party
would go down in James’ childhood memory bank as one to remember for all eternity,
did not help my mounting stress levels. A sense of foreboding started creeping through
me.... The first brigand arrived, a girl pirate in full regalia. Soon the others
joined and before we could say, “Ahoy me hearties”, the house had transformed itself
into a den of pirate iniquity. Skirmishes were afoot before we had even started.
I could not make one child out from another for all the eye-patches and swords. My
sense of foreboding was beginning to look warranted!
It was time to round-up the terrors-in-costume and start the party. We kicked off
with a story-telling by Captain Blond-Beard, alias Peter. All the children sat in
a circle and listened intently to the yarn being spun of pirate treasure and a map.
Captain Blond-Beard’s treasure map was promised to the children if they completed
the set of pirate games. The children were more than eager to start the games now
and the first was ‘Pass the Bomb’.
To say that I was tense is putting it extremely mildly, as I tried explaining the
game to the children, as well as keeping them in check. Why had nobody ever really
taken the trouble to warn me about the health hazards involved in hosting a kids
do? I felt utterly powerless as cortisol streamed through my veins. Peter looked
the way I felt, as between us we attempted to make the game a success. It started
off on the wrong foot as we managed to completely misunderstand each other’s sign
language, which resulted in frenzied attempts to regain control over the game. It
was all getting too much for me and before I knew it I was storming off to the kitchen
to let off steam. The kids were blissfully unaware of the squabbling going on in
the next room, but we knew we would have to continue with the pirate festivities,
whatever the romantic weather. Somehow, we managed to turn the ship around and before
we knew it, the kids were in full swing as pirates were pricked, canons were fired
and parrots dangling from strings were eaten by blindfolded, hand-tied pirates. We
were actually having fun!
The games were finished, but for one - the treasure hunt. We were now entering the
third and final phase of our Pirate show-down. The scallywags had not forgotten the
prize that was waiting for them. One of them shouted out, “The treasure map!” Suddenly,
Captain Blond-beard appeared and in the most roguish voice he could muster, exclaimed,
‘You whippersnappers will not be getting my treasure-map after all, as that treasure
is mine and mine alone!” Justifiably glum faces watched Captain Blond-beard leave
the room, strategically leaving his map behind. I jumped in and invited the pirates
to steal the map from Blond-beard and get hold of the treasure that was rightfully
ours. This moral dilemma created some mixed reactions, as one pirate shook his head
with a look of dread in his eyes and said, “No, we mustn’t!” The rest of the bunch
didn’t seem too bothered about the moral implications of stealing and eagerly helped
to locate the treasure, buried in a wooden chest beneath blankets in the pirate-cave
extension. We hurried back to our starting point and began sharing out the chocolate
gold. Meanwhile, the pirates looked shifty and a little anxious as I read their thoughts
of Blond-beard catching them red-handed.... “What do you think you’re doing?” boomed
the voice behind them. “That’s my treasure!” The children dropped their loot and
looked guiltily at their captor. My eyes motioned to drop the act quickly as I was
worried we were dealing out lasting childhood traumas. Hastily, the pirates were
let off the hook so each one could keep their share of the stash, much to everyone’s
relief!
After the last child had gone, Peter and I collapsed on the floor and lay there for
a while in a daze. I felt like a steam-roller had run me down. All I could think
about was grabbing a bottle of wine and having a guzzle to speed up the chill-out
process. These were extreme circumstances after all! As we reviewed the party’s success,
we came to the conclusion that next year we would probably just opt for a kid’s outing
and may be even the year after that.
So here is a tale that endeth well of treachery and many a pirate spell. The moral
of the tale is as plain as can be; no matter how perilous the stormy sea, just shoot
that canon or prick that pirate and a happier pirate you’ll be!