Party Pooped

To the people who RSVP’ed that they were coming to my party yesterday and then didn’t show up: you stink. Except for those of you who had real excuses (the mom with a feverish baby; the people in Columbus, OH; the aunt that had to attend a funeral instead). If you decided not to come out because of a LITTLE SNOW, I’m a bit pissed at you. I still love you and I hope you will continue to be our friends. But you’re wimps. I would post a stronger word — one that begins with P, has a U and two S’s in the middle, and ends with Y — but I try to keep this a family friendly place.

Fortunately, we found a church willing to take our leftover food (a 3-foot hoagie, a deli tray, and a cheese and pepperoni tray, enough to feed roughly 50 people), so you have allowed us to do a good deed. DearDR and I will have to kill the rest of this keg over the next few days, or hope that it keeps until Christmas Eve (although I’m only having about 12 people that night, and the majority of them don’t drink beer). Also, I have hor d’oevres and cookies to see us through the new year. And my wine cellar has expanded quite a bit because you didn’t show up to drink through it.

You missed a really, really good time. Everyone had a lot of fun, sitting, talking, laughing our asses off. It is true that Monkey decided to blow chunks all over the place at one point, but it was definitely because she was overstimulated. Frankly, you may have done Monkey a favor by not coming. At one point, she walked into the bathroom and closed the door to sing a few songs by herself. To say that she was unhappy with the hurricane of children (well-behaved, but still whirling dervishes) that tore through her toys would be understating the case.

So, boo on you. We had a good time without you. And the food rocked. The cookies rocked harder. But the company and the celebration of DearDR’s achievements topped it all.

If you came, thank you. We loved having you. Granted, we will avoid hosting another party again until summer time, when using the yard will be an option. Even then, given our record up here, it’ll probably rain enough to drown whales.

Now, I must go. Because my children insisted on getting up at 5:42 a.m. Maybe to see if people were still here. (Nonna, Pap-pap, Aunt K and Buddy, were, incidentally.) But I am going to sleep on the couch during the Steelers game. And eat some cheese cubes.

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