Meet Agent N64.
And his sidekick, Agent Root Beer.
My little boy just turned 8. Sigh! So big. We had a secret secret agent celebration. Fun and easy on the budget. When the boys came, they all got mustaches, hats & sunglasses (found on the cheap at an online party warehouse store) and were photographed for their top secret spy passports.
Then we went on a REALLY LONG spy treasure hunt around the neighborhood (I love treasure hunts). I coded the clues so it took them awhile to crack the messages at each of the stops.
Look, they are nervous that they'll be caught.
And then time for this crazy concoction. Can I even tell you how many cans (that's right, ladies, cans) of frosting I had to use to get this baby to stick together? It wasn't looking so good so I had to send my husband out for some last minute dry ice. I am a great believer that dry ice on/around a birthday cake can redeem even the most sorry creation.
But the best part of the whole thing was making the invitations. We'd typed up a secret memo with all the information except my son's name, & a note explaining that in order to find out the identity of the birthday boy you'd need to hold the document under a heat source (with a parent, of course. We don't want any invitations on fire.) E. signed them all in lemon juice, which works like invisible ink. I wish I'd saved one...




















