This is the first prompt for Blogfest 2012; Join in the daily blogging fun!
Parties. Hmm. You mean when you have to get dressed up and stuff like that? When I have to give up my usually purple fuzzy slippers, Target T-shirts and acrylic exercise pants?
Oh, yeah, I remember: New Years! Every year at my husband’s family in NJ, where I carefully rotate between the three rather fancy glittery T-J Max-found outfits, hoping no one will say, “Oh, I remember you wore that in 2008.”
I like these big-bang noisy obnoxious parties because they’re overcrowded with mostly people I don’t know, all yelling over each other to be heard, and I can have as many drinks as I want without anyone noticing. Kind of like my old college parties, though back then we all knew how much the rest us were drinking as we lined up in a wet basement for watery Utica club beer from some leaking keg.
Other than that, parties seem to be birthday parties for my boys. I’m old fashioned. I do these at home, and my boys love the fancy party tables I set up with balloons, pirate or dragon centerpieces. Unlike the cafeteria-style tables at most of the parties they go to, at commercial places where you pay an arm and a leg for your kids to slice each other up with lasers, or bounce on big plastic castles which way before age six, became old.
I’ve come to despise these commercial parties where the teenage personal keep checking their watches for their cigarette breaks, and have turned over such party duties to my husband. And it’s good I don’t have any real adult parties to attend, since, outside of my three glittery outfits, I have absolutely nothing to wear.
S0, donned in my purple slippers and usual comfy clothes, I’m happy to paaaaaarty alone with a cappuccino in my rocking chair with a good book in a rare spare moment. Does that count? Ok, make it a glass of my favorite pinot grigio, Mommy’s Time Out.