Every 4th of July, my extended family gets together to celebrate. We live all across the western states, so this is the only time of year we all see each other. It is also my 8 year old nephew’s birthday.

Most of my family have seen the site. Some of them think I take it too seriously, but understand. This year, to prove I’m not all doom and gloom, my wife and I brought a pinata to the celebration.

We hung it form a tree without telling anyone, covered it with a pillow case so people couldn’t see what it was, then rounded them up. We also placed a baseball bat at the trunk of the tree. 

Of course people realized it was a pinata hanging from the tree and were stunned we would put one up. They were even more stunned when we removed the pillow case and revealed the pinata…It had a picture of my face on it! Then I went into a long spiel about anyone who ever got tired of listening to my pinata story had a chance to get back at me, we bought a bat, yada yada yada. 

My family was flabbergasted. 

Then I called up the birthday boy nephew and had him stand under it. Everyone was very quiet. 

I asked him if was ready to get the candy out. He enthusiastically said “Yes!”

I blindfolded him. Spun him around. Picked up the bat. Instead of handing it to him, I used it to pry loose a pull string that I’d taped out of view. I quickly handed the pull string to my nephew who pulled it with a “come and get it!”

Of course it was a pull string pinata. Joke was on my family, but they liked the candy.

My family attended a Memorial day bbq block party we have every year. All people we know who are familiar with my story. There was one new family on the block, and they were attending their first block bbq. 

Things were going great, everyone was eating and having fun. But the father in this new family unit, who I will call “The Smiths,” brought out a piñata that had been following them from house to house as they moved, and thought it would be fun for us all to bash it in.

When my daughter saw it, she turned pale and threw up her hotdog and beans. My wife took her home and I explained to Mr. Smith why it had such a profound affect on my daughter. 

He laughed it off and said, I quote, “Well, she’s gone now so let the rest of us have some fun.”

At that point, I would simply have left the gathering, but but over a half dozen of my neighbors stepped in and told Mr. Smith where to shove his piñata. Several of the wives went to our house to coax out my daughter (they succeeded with promises of chocolate egg creams.) 

More than one of my neighbors apologized to me for the behavior of Mr. Smith and told me they wanted me to know that my family (and our bbq chops) are always more welcome than a piñata. I have never felt so welcomed by a group of people in my life. The entire block stepped in and supported my quest to educate everyone to the dangers of piñatas.  

And Mr. Smith? Well, he’s a bit of a pariah for now. But my neighbors are good Christian people, and we’ll forgive him before the next block party.