"Alright, Bill, go over it again. How are we getting past the clown?" "Molly, for the last time, the clown’s on stilts. We wait till he’s handing out balloon swords, then slip by under his stilty legs. Easy." "Under the stilts? I’m five-foot-nine, Bill." "You crouch. You’ve crouched before! Remember the wedding cake caper?" "That ended with you covered in marzipan. Also, these are children. They are notoriously sticky." "That’s why we’re wearing gloves." "Purple gloves?" "They were on sale, Molly." "They say 'I heart Grandma.'" "They were VERY on sale." "Fine. So we’re through the clown’s legs, into the backyard. What’s next?" "We avoid the face-painting station. Last time you got a unicorn on your cheek and lost all professionalism." "I looked majestic. But focus, Bill, the presents. Location?" "Under the pergola, by a very aggressive bouncy castle. I scoped it out while pretending to be the magician’s assistant. Did you know little Timmy throws hard with those plastic apples?" "I know, because he threw one at my head when I was juggling fake jewels. But what about the cake watch?" "Cake watch?" "You know, the one parent who hovers by the cake like a security guard because 'Susie can’t have chocolate.'" "Ah, the Cake Warden. That’s Mrs. Blodgett. She’s got a whistle and everything." "Distract her with gluten. Wave a breadstick—tell her it’s wheatless." "I’m not sure I can confidently say ‘wheatless’ with a straight face." "I’ll do it. You snatch the presents." "How many presents are we talking?" "Twenty-six. Six are obviously socks, so we skip those." "Socks are easy to fence!" "Socks are never easy to fence, Bill! You tried last Easter." "Moving on. Presents into the bag—purple, matches the gloves. We exit how?" "Same way we came, or…bouncy castle jump. Over the fence." "Last time you bounced, you sprained an ankle." "Last time, the castle wasn’t dinosaur-shaped. Dinosaurs are sturdier." "You’re inventing that fact, Molly." "I stand by it. Alright, backup plan. If caught?" "We pretend we're the birthday fairy and her assistant, Sir Wrapping Paper. I’ve got a hat." "Bill, that hat says 'Retiree of the Year.'" "Again, very on sale! It’s festive. Look, if all else fails, we yell 'Parrot emergency!' and run for it." "How many parrots do you think kids have, Bill?" "It’s the element of surprise. No one expects yelling about parrots." "You know what? Good enough. So—gloves, bag, gluten stick, hat. Bouncy dinosaur. Parrot emergency. Ready?" "Ready. Molly?" "Yeah?" "If you see a kid named Betsy, duck. She bites." "Understood. Clown, pergola, cake, presents. Operation Party Swipe is a go?" "Go! And Molly?" "Yes, Bill?" "Try not to eat any cake this time." "No promises, Bill. Absolutely none."