Decapitating Dora...

It started off innocently enough--a family birthday party for my lively two-year-old. In hindsight, having it during Easter weekend may have been poor judgment. But, with her birthday just a weekend before Easter, I knew this would be the only time we'd have all our family together to celebrate.

Party preparations were behind, but in control, which is the usual state of my semi-organized chaotic life. Still, I found myself having to pull an almost all-nighter making the birthday cake the night before. Every time I make a birthday cake, there is some fiasco. Then, for the next party, I easily commit to buying a cake no matter what the cost, remembering the ridiculous labor that went into it the previous year. Then, forgetfully, I'll declare the following year that I am making the cake again because it needs to be special from mom. So far, this pattern has repeated itself for around 6 years now. I guess I will never learn. Around 3 a.m., I finished up this and was pleased with the results.

The next morning was filled with the usual bickering between me and my husband. This is also a pattern. My family does not visit often. They are small-town people and don't like "the big city" or where I live much. So, I unconsciously put an enormous amount of pressure on myself to make them comfortable and everything perfect. This inevitably ends in me gnashing my teeth and saying really nasty things to my husband, who is just trying to stay clear and help. The poor bloke.

I'd had the foresight to plan an activity for the children attending the party, who varied in age from two to fifteen. A simple little scavenger hunt involving Dora's favorite pals from the show, several cute clues hidden in plastic Easter eggs and ending with a piñata at the end for the kids to enjoy.

Witness Exhibit A: the festive piñata, before tragedy struck, dangles in all of its beauty. Dora, kneeling on her knees beaming at my daughter. A favorite friend of hers each morning on our television set, Miss Kitty was more than delighted to find this at the end of the hunt. I'm sure she was thinking, "OH, how pretty she looks hanging so high!" (Note: I only had time to shoot this quick shot from the side, so you cannot see Dora's innocent smiling face, but just trust me. She was quite exquisite.)
That is where the happy story ends. I should have known the evil that lurked in the hands of these seemingly harmless family members. The danger I was putting dear Dora in was right in front of my face and I did not see it...until it was too late.

My darling daughter took her little pull on the easy strings at the bottom, made for younger kids who can't yet swing at the pinata. Then, I felt a little trepidation when I saw the "stick" my husband had chosen for the children to use on the pinata was not a little dowel, but a very thick branch that my son had carved into a massive walking stick for father-son camping hikes. Surely this was not going to be necessary, was it?

Trying to go in an order of youngest to oldest, my son took his swings. But, then one of the older cousins jumped ahead of his younger sister. In one whack he ripped the body off dear Dora, leaving her decapitated head dangling by the string as we all gasped in shock.

My daughter's mouth dropped open in horror. A mammoth tantrum was building behind her teary eyes, much like a smoldering volcano about to spew hot lava. And, I sat there with mouth agape thinking, "Well, you've done it now. You've completely traumatized your daughter and ruined her for life." Then, the quick panic set in when you know your child is about to really let loose with a bad fit and you don't know how to stop it.

When, suddenly...
"tap, tap, tap"

The sound of something caught her attention and moved her gaze from Dora's dangling noggin' to the raining candy falling to the concrete below. In an odd bit of foreshadowing that I'd learn of only hours later (more on that next time), my daughter rushed to the candy unafraid of her much larger older cousins and sibling. She instantly knew she had to get her hands on the "kee" (candy) and she had to move quickly.

Once all the sweets were gathered, the younger children went inside to count their winnings and start the sugar fest. And, as a mother, I am very thankful for that. For, the carnage that went on after that was much too traumatic for young and innocent eyes.

Dora's head became the target of a fifteen-year-old's angst, and two fully grown adult male's idea of a new sport. Beaten and stomped upon, all that was left was her empty torso, a hollow reminder of the birthday innocence lost that day.

It was hard giving Dora's mother the news, but even harder breaking it to her sidekick Boots the Monkey. And, even worse, before we could recover the body, Swiper the Fox stole it away. Witness gave reports of seeing sneaky Swiper "having his way with poor Dora" in some dark alley later that evening.

Learn a lesson from our tragedy, my friends. Just say NO to piñatas. And, never, no never, let this happen to you...