Partyville

Dearest readers,

You may remember that my last post contained exciting information about the upcoming fourth birthday celebrations of this here bambino blog.

You may also remember that I asked for your comely suggestions about how Well Fan My Brow may mark its momentous blogday.

Well, before my little blog stripling heads off to hell, I mean, primary school, with a packed lunch of Marmite sandwiches, a packet of Monster Munch and a Wagonwheel, it must celebrate (after all, it's only going to get worse for the dinky blogmite; high school, acne, eye infections, etc). But how?

Below are some of your ideas thus far:

Take the blog ten pin bowling - Dale
May have trouble picking up the bowling ball, Dale. It is only three and a bit, and those balls are heavy for pudgy blog hands.

Swish it down a waterslide at Splashland - Tia
Presents a bit of a problem with regards swimwear. A blog in a bikini would be obscene.

Get it trollied - Leroy
What are you people, animals?

Dress it up as a cowgirl and go trick or treating - Filipe
So many things wrong with that idea, Fil; a) we are nowhere near Halloween, b) this is not ET.

Take it to the Littlechef for a Jubilee Pancake - Karla
Best idea so far, Karla. Well done you.

Have another bloggy so that its got a younger blog to play with - Charlee
Oh, lord; I would not go through a second blogbirth for love nor money.

End it - AnonYmuz
You're going to have to be a bit more specific there, Anon. The blog? Me? Me and the blog?

Party like it's 1998 - Leya
Ah, 1998; I remember it so well. I remember it because the one thing I was most certainly not doing that year was partying! I hate parties! Parties hate me!

But then, this isn't all about me, is it, readers? If the infant blog wants a party, then we'll just have to throw a hellzapoppin' party! We'll invite lots of other wee bairn blogs over, lock them in a room for a few hours together, while the Hokey Cokey plays on a loop in the background. Meantime, whoever's in charge (I'll hopefully be in Des Moines, so it'll probably be Norv who comes out in hives at the faintest whiff of Pass the Parcel) can take to their room with a long, tall glass of Mother's Ruin. Sorted.