Monday, October 23, 2006

Reading the cookbook after the party is over is not quite as silly as locking the barn door after the horses are stolen. But it's close.

Greetings, Internet! Long time no see.

Do you know what? Badger is swell.

On Thursday, or maybe it was Friday (because who can remember back that far? Not Poppy "A is for Alzheimer's" Buxom) I received an Amazon package from Badger. It was this.

(And now, while I wait for Blogger to decide whether it wants to upload the image, I'll take a minute of your time ... or maybe it will be a half hour ... still waiting ... to tell you how awesome ... no image yet ... Badger is. I mean, is she amazing or what? I mention I'm giving a party on my blog, and she sends me a present! And what could be more perfect--a book about how to give parties?)

OK, I'm giving up on Blogger. No photo. Click on the link if you want to see the book.

So anyway. Badger's note said something about this book helping me with the Halloween party I was having Saturday night.

Now, this was very sweet and thoughtful of her, but what with cleaning and ordering flowers and cooking and filling the window boxes with pumpkins and chrysanthemums and stringing up orange lights, I didn't have time to read the book.

And as it turns out, I wished I had. Because I was dealing with some puzzling hostess-y issues. And because I am rather outspoken, I was trying and failing to convey the tactful version of this thought:
Just because your child has neurobehavioral issues and my children have neurobehavioral issues does not mean you can bring your children to my house and then basically ignore them.

See, this is a family party. I don't invite just couples, I invite the entire family. But that doesn't mean I want the grown-ups to cede control of their children to the four winds. And yes, because my children have their own problems, I'm used to a certain level of craziness, and I tend to overlook stuff.

However, in the case of this one particular family, even the neurobehaviorally normal children weren't exactly filling their hostess (that would be me) with the rosy glow of good fellowship. After I had pryed the youngest one's fingers off the piano keyboard not once but twice (Because banging piano keys! Is! FUN!) and discovered the middle child walking around naked (because he tried and failed to get back into his costume after using the facilities without help) I discovered that the one who did have NB issues was down in the basement

throwing That Stud Muffin I Married's weights around.

It was at this point that I really regretted not having taken the time to read Amy Sedaris's funny and charming book on entertaining. Obviously some expertise in handling very short, loud, destructive party guests was called for. If only I had thought to take a quick glance at the book ... maybe the index would mention something about how a hostess whose guests are chucking five-pound iron plates around is supposed to handle the situation. And if not, then, clearly the book would suggest a Plan B, wherein (and I will now express my feelings in a haiku)


The book's purpose was
To be brought down hard upon
Those idiots' heads.


But unfortunately, it didn't happen. No heads were injured in the making of Poppy: The Annual Halloween Party.

So lacking those two ways of helping the distraught hostess, the book's purpose has become to entertain said hostess while she sits in the nice, peaceful, if somewhat trashed silence of her home, enjoying a cup of tea and the total absence of guests.

So thank you, Badger. You are a sanity-saver. And next year? Can I hire you to be a bouncer?

9 comments:

  1. I wonder if she can be of any help in the matter of my SIL's children systematically destroying my home...

    ReplyDelete
  2. Nothing's more frustrating than parents who take advantage of the generosity of others. Life's too short to ever invite them back...

    Amy Sedaris is hilarious. I need to read that book.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I've notice a great many parents seem to have the same NBD which manifests itself in ignoring their children when they are or can be expectred to be wrecking havoc upon othe rpeoples homes.

    And yeah - NOBODY wants to hear anyone's toddler banging on a piano...particularly the owner of said piano.

    Fiddledeedee

    ReplyDelete
  4. If I were you (which, of course, I am not), I would un-annualize that party. How about Poppy: The Every Few Years After We've Completed The Repairs From The Last Halloween Party

    ReplyDelete
  5. It was Wednesday, according to UPS. But who's counting? And who, indeed, was beginning to wonder if she needed to chew someone at Amazon a new orifice?! Not me, boy howdy!

    I can do better than bounce various bounders from your boundaries; I can keep them away altogether. Just station me at the front door, stone cold sober, wearing an above-the-knee skirt and a halter top. They'll flee in terror! And so will you! And your neighbors! And their pets!

    I am one scary bitch, yo.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Look at it in perspective. There wasn't anyone slinging weights AT the piano.

    This is why we have our "family parties" outside where the worst thing that could happen is that TFBIM's plants get wrecked, something that doesn't weight particularly heavily on my shoulders.

    -J.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Well now I can definitely see the benefit to living in an apartment so small that we can't have more than two guests over at the same time.

    ReplyDelete
  8. ooooohhh...I just picked up that book as a gift, but I am tempted to just gift it right over to my very own bookshelf.

    We have friends who ignore their kids... all 4 of them... they run amok and that is why we will no longer meet up with them anywhere but the beach.

    ReplyDelete
  9. In situations such as these, I believe the best course of action involves a taser or some of those zapping dog collars. At least that way you can confine them to a small area without ever having to get up...not that I would ever do that...

    ReplyDelete

Gentle Readers:

For the time being, I've turned off comment moderation. Please don't spam; it's not nice.

xxx, Poppy.