Shelling out $100 for a kid's birthday party has become an American tradition. Whose idea was this anyway? Whatever happened to pin the tail on the donkey in the backyard and "Make a wish and blow out all the candles" at the kitchen table?

Sometime in the last 15 or 20 years, it became fashionable to spend big bucks on a birthday party that is hosted by a person parading around as a large and furry bear, a bunny with funny ears or, heaven forbid, the dreaded walking slice of pizza. Most kids are scared to death of these large creatures. Why? Probably because they keep showing up uninvited at birthday parties.

We have raised two daughters through the birthday party years. We've done everything. Pizza joints, roller rinks, ice skating, McDonalds, church gymnasiums. One year, we even rented a hotel room and let a few of our kid's best girlfriends stay the night in their very own room. We were in the room on the other side of the adjoining door. Let me give you a little piece of advice: Don't. EVER! The ruckus was reminiscent of what the Rolling Stones would sound like during one of their famous hotel trashing tantrums.

Our three children have birthdays within 90 days of each other in the winter and spring, which is good because it gets them all out of the way fast and then we don't have to worry about it again for nine months.

We start the celebrations off this weekend when our 14-year-old magically transforms into a 15-year-old, which, unfortunately, does NOT mean that she will wake up Sunday and be magically mature. It, however, DOES mean she can officially begin the countdown until she is of driving age. Which is not the same thing as the countdown to when she gets a car and actually STARTS to drive. Two totally different things.

This year for her birthday, our teen-ager wants a couple of friends to go out to dinner with her. So, we've decided to take her to a restaurant where we'll be sure our waiter makes our daughter stand on top of a table while she holds the salt and pepper shakers above her head as the wait staff sings "Happy Birthday." It's a real grown-up thing to pull on a kid, but when you're 15, you're doomed to get whatever your parents decide to dish out to you, whether it's fair or not.

Two months from now, it's The Boy's turn. He's facing the Big 0-7 this year. He thinks he wants a rather large shindig at the local roller skating rink. We've been to numerous parties at the roller rink. They must be fun AFTER I leave. It takes The Boy about 20 minutes to do one lap around the skating rink. He usually comes home with bruises EVERYWHERE. Something is wrong with THAT set up, too. Unleashing kids who are wearing shoes with wheels on them and telling them NOT to fall down on a concrete floor. Who comes up with these ideas?

Three weeks after The Boy turns 7, our middle child will turn 12.

"I know where I want my birthday party this year," she said the other night at the dinner table. "There's a new place in the mall called TeenWorld."

"Well, you can't go," I answered quickly.

"Why not, Dad?"

"Well ... because ... ummm, you're 11? You're going to be TWELVE. You're NOT a teenager so stop trying to act like one."

"But Dad -- "

"You can't go to TeenWorld, it's against the law. And besides, teenagers do things differently than 12 year olds. You're not ready to be exposed to that yet, trust me. I want to keep you young and innocent for as long as possible."

"But Dad --"

"Honey, it's called TeenWorld. You can't go there. If they had something called 12World, we'd be first in line. Please, this is the last year you'll be a human being for seven years, so can your mother and I enjoy it, please?"

During a recent visit to see family, we had a big dinner one night. I sat across from a really cute little girl who is my nephew's daughter. I engaged her in conversation.

"How old are you?" I asked her.

"Thuh-ree," she said, stretching the word into two syallables.

"And when will you be four?" I asked.

She looked at me for a minute and finally said, "On my birthday."

It was really quite a logical answer to her. All I could think of was how she must have been completely baffled at the fact that I, an adult, had not yet figured out how that all works. Duh!

Another thing that really bothers me about birthday parties is that they happen ALL ... YEAR ... LONG. It seems like every weekend we're traipsing off to the store to buy a gift, a bag and tissue paper.

We finally learned to recycle bags, which is really the best part about having birthday parties for your kids. You can stockpile the bags, and just give them to other kids throughout the year. Then, when you run out of bags, just tell the kids no more parties!

It's really gets confusing when 6-year-old boys are invited to girls' birthday parties. This never happens when the birthday girl or boy is 11 or 12. The parties at that age are strictly same sex get-togethers.

When The Boy was invited to a girl's party last month, I asked him what he thought the girl would like for a gift.

"I don't know," he said.

"What does she like to do? What does she talk about?"

"Barbies and dolls and junk."

"Well, we can either get her a Barbie or we can get her some junk," I said.

We ended up buying her a couple of books, which most kids sort of just toss aside really fast before they move on to something they actually WANT. Hey, at least I did my part in trying to educate the little girl, so I was able to hold my head high that day.

For the party, we wrapped the girl's present in a bag that had baseballs all over it. The look on her face was priceless. For a few terror stricken moments, she thought she was getting a boy present. But hey, we had an extra bag laying around the house so we simply had to use it.

Since most of the parties The Boy goes to are for other boys, I suggested to Mrs. P that this year we buy about 20 ten-count boxes of Hot Wheels cars so The Boy would be prepared for every party. That way, we'd only have to shovel out a large one-time sum, instead of $8.99 here, $8.99 there, which can really add up. Plus, advance purchase of the Hot Wheels cars would take the suspense out of what the gift is for the birthday boy. You invite my son, you get cars. Everyone would know in advance.

Whoever invented Hot Wheels 10-packs had obviously been to his share of boys' birthday parties. Whoever you are, I'm forever grateful.

Just the other day, a couple of weeks after The Boy had returned from a birthday party for one of his closest friends, he got a piece of mail with his name on it. We opened it. It was a thank you note.

The first thing I noticed was that it was on letterhead. The second thing I noticed was that it was a form thank-you note.

"Dear______, Thank you for coming to my party and for the gift you brought me:______________."

A form thank you letter -- ON LETTERHEAD -- from a seven-year-old. Knowing what I know about this boy, to keep track of his busy schedule he has probably hired a 21-year-old receptionist who keeps his appointment calendar and cleans up around the office for him. Apparently, children get extremely busy when they turn seven. What keeps them so busy, no doubt, are the hundreds of birthday parties they are invited to every year.

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