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My youngest granddaughter Sarah turned four years old last week. Her birthday party was Saturday at Pump It Up, a party venue in Athens.

Pump It Up is a small Southeastern chain that specializes in hosting birthday parties and other celebrations for little kids. Each party is a complete turn-key operation, so the moms and dads have little to do except cough up the dough.

The standard party package gives the kids 60 minutes in “private, indoor, climate-controlled arenas” filled with inflatables — inflatable slides, bounce houses, and obstacle courses.

Inflatables… Pump It Up… get it?

After an hour of bouncing, the merry-makers move to a private party room for 30 minutes, for food, cake, and gifting.

Two staff members, both college-age girls, were on hand the entire time to supervise the proceedings, maintain order, interact with the kids, and watch the clock.

As needed, they escorted the young ones to the water fountains and restrooms. Once or twice, they dealt with tears caused by hurt feelings or minor collisions inside the inflatables. And, very importantly, they made sure Sarah was treated royally.

When we moved to the party room, the two of them laid out the party favors, served the pizza, lit the candles, passed out cake and ice cream, supervised the opening of the gifts, kept a written record of who gave what, disposed of the gift wrap, and cleaned up the mess.

Early on, I noticed that both staff members were knocking back energy drinks. It occurred to me that maybe, herding four-year-olds wasn’t what they wanted to be doing on a perfect spring Saturday in a college town.

So, as I went about the task of taking photos, I also was observing the demeanor of the two staffers. I was looking for signs of boredom, irritation, or other indications that they couldn’t wait to get out of there.

Not that it made any difference, of course. I was just curious to see if my hunch was right.

It wasn’t. The two girls were consistently cheerful, attentive, and professional. I never detected the slightest hint that my suspicions were correct. The two performed their duties in a splendid manner, as, I am sure, their bosses expect them to.

After the party ended, and the kids and their parents were filing out the door, I walked over to one of the girls as she was cleaning up.

“You guys did a great job today,” I said. “I admire you for staying so cheerful and tolerant amid all the chaos.”

She smiled brightly. “Oh, I love kids,” she said. “The little ones are so fun to be around.”

“Do you attend the University?”

“Yeah. I’m majoring in Early Childhood Education. I love kids.”

“Then this is an ideal job for you,” I said.

“Well, I just work here part-time. During the week, I work at a day-care center. On Sundays, I volunteer at my church daycare. I really love kids.”

“I can see that. You probably want kids of your own someday.”

“You bet I do!”

I thanked her again, left her to her cleaning, and went outside to catch up with the family.

That girl will be a first-rate teacher some day, and a heck of a mom.

Watching the Pump It Up safety video.

Sarah in mid-slide.

Getting the royal treatment.