A Strike and a Spare

In the end the bowling party for Giulio went well, though the signs were there that it might not go as planned. I ordered the cake on Monday and Lorenzo went to pick it up on Saturday morning and came home fuming. It was 43 euros. 43 euros! What was he, Berlusconi's son, he didn't have 43 euros to blow on a cake, what could I have been thinking?? I pointed out that it was for 14 people and had strawberries in it, but he wasn't interested. Then around three o'clock (the party was scheduled for 4) we got a call from the bowling alley asking if we were planning on coming because they hadn't gotten a confirmation from us. Except they had. Lorenzo had called them a week ago to confirm that we were coming with at least 10 people, and we had been told that it was all set.
"People or kids?" the lady on the phone now wanted to know.
Why did it matter? When we had originally planned the party we had explained that there would be more adults than children and the guy had told us no problem. Did this mean they would give each person a small piece of foccaccia and call it even because they were expecting children? Would we make a "brutta figura" and send people home hungry? Lorenzo got dressed, took Livia and drove over there, worried about what we might find if we waited any longer to show up. I followed about 20 minutes later with 2 guests and the cake, a plate of pizzette, and bottles of coke and spumante. And in the end there was no problem. The table was set with cups and napkins and when they brought out the refreshments there was plenty for everyone, and along with the stuff we had brought, including the cake, well, no one went hungry. What logistics were involved though in planning! In America if you put out food, people eat it. Here we had this long debate-- ah yes, well the party's at four and people really aren't hungry and planning on eating a whole lot at four, maybe just cake. But then what if they are hungry and there isn't enough. To Snack of Not To Snack, that became the question and it kept going around and around until I began to wonder why I ever let Giulio have a birthday party to begin with.
By 4:30 though, everyone had shown up, all the people who Giulio likes to say, "all together they love me." We got bowling shoes all round and we were actually able to relax and have fun though Giulio was less than enthusiastic about bowling this time, at least at the begining. The place was filled with video games and video poker machines. Instead of bowling Giulio wanted to sit in front of the race car video game and turn the steering back and forth with the words INSERT COIN flashing across the screen. I practically had to pull him out of the seat while hissing in his ear the inane threat: Giulio, you come now or next year no birthday party! He got into the spirit of things eventually, even bowled for a while, but soon he was drawn to the snack table and by the end of the afternoon I had to do his turns for him. Clearly bowling has lost its appeal, next year it's just going to be 30 of his closest friends and a big cake. I have had my fill of children's birthday parties for the time being.
The only other downside of the party was the staff at the bowling alley, the friendly guy we had spoken to wasn't there for most of the afternoon. The staff watched us like hawks and were annoyed when people got anywhere near the bowling lanes with food, something that I found hilarious. I mean, can you imagine being told in the US that you can't have food near the lanes? Who would go bowling any more? People have sit-down meals pausing only to get up and bowl strikes at some of the places in Cincinnati. I obeyed but some of our male friends would sneak a pizzette up onto the lane with them, though I doubt the eagle-eyed guy at the desk missed a thing. The staff also seemed to think we were taking too long with our party. Apparently this particular bowling alley closes for one hour between seven and eight and they seemed very worried that we were going to run past 7. One of my friends heard one guy complain to another, "They aren't here to have dinner, they are here to bowl!" when she walked by the counter while we were doing cake and presents. We did make it out in time, but I wasn't pleased, I don't like to be rushed especially when I'm about to shell out cash for the priviledge of using their fine facility.
Signs that I'm becoming Italian: I wasn't pleased with the 43 euro cake. They had obviously used frozed strawberries instead of fresh strawberries, and in a true Italian hostess tradition I passed around the cake plates while lamenting on the quality, just as Terry had done at Alessandro's birthday when she had spend over 100 euros on two cakes. No self-respecting hostess would ever taste the cake she bought and proclaim it fabulous. No, instead a debate must ensue over where one can find a really good cake without feeling ripped off, as the one you are eating is certainly not meeting the mark. A hostess can show her approval by not saying anything, offering only a vague, "really?" when people deem the cake to be edible. I had eaten this same type of cake at another birthday and I remember going on and on about it to the hostess, so much so that when it was time to order it last week for Giulio's birthday I even called my friend to double-check on what was in it so I could be sure that it was the right one. I also asked for it in the shape of the number 4. Unfortunately it was an "italian" 4, so that upside-down it looked like a 7, and the girl at the bowling alley when she put the candles on it thought it was a 7 too, so that in the end it the candles that spelled HAPPY BIRTHDAY faced the wrong way, and when we tried to switch them it started to ruin the fluffy wipped cream topping and in the end the cake facing Giulio in the photos just says HAPPY ---------, as the "birthday" part of the candles are still facing the wrong way. We only got one or two photos of the cake part. The batteries on my camera died the moment I tried to take a photo of the cake with the candles all lit, while at the same time my friend Luca, who had been given video camera duty, informed me that the video camera had just run out of the film. The new cassette that I tried to open wouldn't, and in the end I gave up. I will have to try again when Giulio turns 5.
Out of all his presents Giulio was most proud of the trophy he was given at the end of the party by the staff, which says "To the Number 1 player at the birthday party." It is now sitting proudly on the shelf in his room.