“We’re playing pirates,” she said. “I’m the first mate! Jessica gives orders and then I make bad people walk the plank.”

“Good for you. So what’s Andy?”

“He was my parrot, and then he was a shark. Now he’s … what are you now, Andy?”

“M’a rowboat,” he said sleepily.

“Do rowboats nap?” I asked.

“I wish,” muttered Cassandra. “They’ve been trying to drive me crazy all night.”

“Really? How are they doing?”

She flipped her ponytail over her shoulder, rolling her eyes. “Amazingly well.”

“I see.” I tickled Andrew until he stopped yawning and started giggling, then set him back on his feet. “Go be a rowboat.” He laughed and ran for the swings, Karen close behind.

“How do they get all that energy?” I asked as I stood.

“They never stop moving.”

Cassandra grinned. “I have no idea. If I knew, I could skip freshman physics.”

“I’m gonna go let your folks know I’m here. You need anything?”

“Can I have a tranquilizer gun?”

“No.”

“Okay. Just tell Mom we need to cut the cake soon, or I may kill them all.”

“Got it. Give the kids sugar before you kill them. Because that’s gonna calm them down.” I winked and turned to head inside.

If the party seemed hectic in the yard, it was even worse when packed into the confines of Mitch and Stacy’s cluttered living room. School pictures and crayon art covered the walls, while toys, domestic mammals, and small children got underfoot when least expected. The furniture was covered with clear plastic sheeting, but that would just delay the damage, not prevent it.

Stacy was positioning chairs around a series of folding tables when I walked in. Anthony, their nine year old, was helping her, looking harried. The party was clearly getting to him, and just as clearly wasn’t getting to his cheerful-looking mother. “Toby! Good, you’re here,” she said, unsurprised by my appearance. “Get the cake.”