On the piñata

Today, at camp, Frances is supposed to be making piñatas. Sounds fun, right?

She has been talking about it for the past couple of days, and only this morning did I realize that she hasn’t been informing us as much as she has been expressing anxiety.

Pink Cup Dad and I tried unsuccessfully to convince her of how much fun she would have. 

She asked, “Do you know how many children get knocked out at birthday parties every year because of piñatas?”

“Exactly zero,” I assured her. “Besides, you’re just making them at this point, and that certainly isn’t dangerous.”

Eventually, we gave up trying to change her mind as we arrived at the day camp and just told her how to avoid getting hit with a stick when it comes time to bash them.

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