First, we loaded Gabriella and her friends up with pizza. Then, cake. Next, root beer floats.

A brief time out was called. Huddle up.

In case the sugar buzz turned lethal and they never had a chance to express their undying love for one another, an exchange of friendship bracelets was made.

Then, grape soda, popcorn, gummy worms, etc, followed by dancing, which, at a nine year-old level, is pretty much jumping up and down, hip swinging, and the occasional extremely-caucasian overbite/”walk like an egyptian” combo.

The dancing continued. And continued. Until the bubbly concoction in their stomachs fizzed upward and tickled the back of their tonsils.

Then, “I don’t feel well.”

Yack.

Followed by fifteen minutes of my (gloved) hands fishing pizza, popcorn and gummy worms out of the bathroom sink hole.

It’s not a party till somebody pukes.