Indiana Jones Birthday Party

I’m not exactly sure how E was even introduced to Indiana Jones, let alone became interested in the movies enough to base his entire 7th birthday party around them.  But he did.  Which means I had to watch the movies for the first time in twenty (?) years.  I have to admit, they’re not really appropriate for a seven year old.  Mummies, skeletons, Nazis, melting faces, monkey brain meals, death by airplane propeller… But if there’s a Wii Lego game version, evidently that makes it kid stuff.


So, here we are, more than a month past E’s actual birthday.  The troubles of being born just before Christmas!  He waited patiently (for the most part) for this weekend to come.  His guest wish list was enormous… he has so many friends!  Mommy had to whittle it down to just the boys from his current class, plus three cousins and one sister.  Even that was too many when it came to piñata time.

A scavenger hunt led the boys (plus two girls) around the house, following maps to hidden treasures, most of which were helpful props for games following the hunt.  A fresh layer of snow on the ground kept us out of the yard, which was too bad considering Ben had designed a perfect outdoor adventure course.  Foiled by Belgian weather!  Even without it, we filled our party time, even scrapping a game or two due to lack of time.


As usual, Ben was happy to dress up, and played Kazim, guardian of the Grail.  L played her part as a ghost of an archeologist, willing to share her treasure with adventurers who could find her at the end of a snake filled tunnel.  The kids flew planes down the dining room table, trying to get closest to the end of Tiki Island, melted exploding stones, shot blow darts at each other and me, strung good luck talismans onto necklaces and ate cake.  No monkey brains in sight.


My brocante habit kept me from having to buy Indiana Jones themed decorations, and E’s new Kindle was loaded up with Indy music.  Presents were opened.  Several new boxes of Legos and, the big hit, a World War I bomb shell casing.  Only in Europe.  Looks like I’m not the only brocante hunter.

Happy Birthday, Indiana Martin!



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