I guess I've finally reached that age where it's appropriate for my friends to throw parties featuring our own childhood as the ironic theme. Fine by me, as long as I get to snarf the forbidden fruits of the 80's. I'm talking about anything in a Hostess wrapper. My mom is a second generation Italian (read: excellent cook) and first generation hippie. The only fruit roll ups in our house were those hard core brown leather-like deals from the health food store. A Tiger Milk bar was a big treat and sugar cereals were NOT ALLOWED. So whenever I'm faced with a buffet table strewn with nerds, gummy worms, hostess cupcakes and cheese n cracker snak paks my heart skips a beat.
Luckily my friend Ethan is the king of theme parities, and this year his birthday party had an indoor recess theme. Last night we grownups got to re-live the glory (or in my case, shame and humiliation) of the foursquare courts and double dutch ropes. At least there was the soothing balm of cupcake filling to calm any court induced BUUUUUUUURRRRNNNNSSS. In YOUR FACE! Let me tell you, 30-somethings get ugly on the foursquare court.