Peanut Layne

Mom Writes Blog Post After No One Shows Up To Son's Birthday


I didn't want to take this article. The writers here all fought to NOT be the one to write about this.

It's too sad. No job is worth this.

But, seeing as I possessed the most shriveled up and atrophied heart amongst us all, I bravely stepped up to the task. After all, what better day is there to plumb the depths of human cruelty than All Hallow's Eve?

So, dear reader, follow me into the darkness.

Kristen Layne (who writes under a pen name) shared a blog post on her website, Life on Peanut Layne, about how heartbroken she was when not a single person showed up to her son Mahlon's 9th birthday party.

Hold on, I'm hyperventilating. Give me a second.

*Breathes rapidly into brown paper bag until heart stops its anguished howling*

OK, OK: I'm ready. Let's continue.

His mother took pictures of her son as he waited for his friends to arrive. But nobody – not from school (sob) nor "Mahlon's Taekwondo class" (sob) – showed up to the party.

This was Mahlon's first year of being enrolled in school after being home-schooled.

'This ninth birthday was supposed to be his year. His special day. His first real party with friends,' his mom wrote.

Kill me.


He started crying, supposedly when he finally realized no one was going to show up.

Thankfully, his relatives subbed in for the absent friends. But nothing could obscure the blemish of despair from this blackest of days.

The one tiny silver lining in this hurricane-grade, gunmetal black cloud is this: After Mahlon's mother posted about the sad day on her blog, a ton of support came in. People started sharing similar experiences of their own birthdays from when they were children.

Seriously, Mahlon: This sort of thing happens to everyone at some point.

Maybe nobody shows up to your birthday, or maybe you have to watch your best friend marry Keira Knightley. Either way, life has moments of utter brutality.

I'd rather write and read about horrible murdersghosts or even (shiver) the election than this story. This Halloween, I can handle blood and guts much better than lonely birthdays.