How will I keep a pony in our backyard?

Kaden got invited to his first school birthday party last week (except for one ill-fated event in kindergarten 2 years ago).  Knowing this child with his caution about new places and new things and new people, I was thrilled that he wanted to go.

"We're going glo-bowling,"  he told me with that ear-to-ear grin that is "so Kaden".  I was so happy for him.  That one little invitation made him feel so wanted, so special.

I laid the invitation by the computer desk, with all the on-the-go papers like permission forms and fund-raising notices. 

We discussed just giving the little girl money because he didn't know what she'd like for a gift.  Kaden is very careful how he spends his money, and loves to find cash in a birthday card.  He felt this was perfect for his little friend.

He waited patiently all weekend, and if we drove down main street past the bowling alley, he'd mention that soon he'd get to go bowling with his school friends.  Monday was no school, and that should have made things go quicker... indeed it did. 

We'll say that's my excuse.  We'll blame it on Louis Riel day.  I got mixed up.  The party was to be Wednesday.  I automatically thought, "three days into the school week".  And so... today I woke up and heard Kaden telling his brother that it was getting close to the party day.  I ran downstairs and rifled through papers to find that invitation - hoping someone had taken it and I could blame someone else that I hadn't been able to see the date.

The invitation was right where I'd left it, and it clearly said the party was on Wednesday after school.  Today is Thursday. 

Kids are so forgiving. 

I only hope to some day be as gracious and quick to forgive as my son was with me. 

"Honey, we missed the bowling party," I said with my arms around him.
"Why?"
"I just forgot.  I'm sorry."
I wish he'd thrown a fit and cried and acted horrible - then I could have focused on my mom role and talked to him about handling life's disappointment, and that nobody's perfect.

Instead, he just got quiet and hung his head a bit.  "Okay," he said so sadly and quietly.

I had huge, horrible visions of me being handed a large black trophy with a monster figurine on the top.  The ugly plaque on the base said, "World's Worst Mom Award".    Yup... nobody told me about this part of being a mom.  I probably wouldn't have believed them anyway.  I would have thought there was no way I could miss something so important for someone so important.

But I did.
And now I have to somehow come up with the cash to pay for the massive glo-bowling party that I quickly promised my son - with as many friends as he wants to invite.  I must come up with a fantastic cake, great party gifts that he will be excited to hand out, and a wonderful present for him so that my guilty conscience will finally leave me alone! 

If that doesn't do it, well, there's always daily treks to Warky's and Iceburg for icecream and slurpies.  Maybe I'll see if he likes Disney on Ice, or  a new pony...