As our children grow they become more active in life and develop the desire to entertain. Trust me they don’t get this important life quality from their mother. It’s all me. I’ll just about throw a party for any event if I’m given the opportunity. My kid scored a 68 on his math quiz & I mailed out 338 “save the date” invitations like this little shit just solved “World Hunger.” Its all about the social gatherings. I could have a good time at a wake.
I once told my wife my parents were stopping by to say hello because we haven’t seen them in 6 months and she had the balls to reply “Ugh, I have no make up on, my boobs are swollen, I have no coffee in the house and I’m tired.” I took three steps back and slapped her across the forehead with a piece of raw bacon. My automatic response was “Really?…Wait your boobs are swollen? Let’s meet in the bedroom!” She then proceeded to slap me with the raw bacon and it became an instant shit show.
Needless to say, she’s not an entertainer.
Until my kids asked if they could have a Halloween party this year.
I was sitting on the couch. 14 1/2 beers deep. New York Yankees just lost their playoff series. She walked in with a tee shirt slightly draped over her shoulder like she just scalped backstage tickets for a “meet & greet” to a Debbie Gibson concert. Her lips began to move. “Babe, the boys want to have a Halloween party this year & invite their friends. What do you think?” Naturally I didn’t give a rats ass. I was just waiting for her boobies to swell so I could knock them around like “Rocky Balboa” in a meat locker. “So you’re ok with it” she quickly shouted. I said “Yeah!”
The following day she hired “Dr Loomis” from the Halloween franchise as the party planner. I wake up for work and the next thing you know I’m sitting down having coffee with “Michael Meyers” & that facially distorted serial killer who wears a hockey mask and hangs out at a lake all day. We all discussed the celebratory event. All of the sudden this “Resting Bitch Face, socially challenged, unfriendly woman I call my wife magically morphs into “Steve Rubell”. She eventually falls in love with Dr. Loomis & lives happily ever after. I always thought my boys looked a bit like Dr. Loomis.
Then the decorating begins. This evil woman sneaks into the local graveyard and starts digging up dead bodies. She then places their remains around my living room like they are some sort of “Party City” prop. Next thing you know my wife is beheading the neighbors in order to create a realistic scene of horrific proportion. She releases black widow spiders, tarantulas & scorpions to add special effects & make the gathering appear more realistic.
When I was asked if my boys wanted to host a Halloween party I assumed it would involve some snickers bars & a few bags of Doritos. Maybe the “Monster Mash” would play in the background as the children dressed up like Barney & watched the iconic “Charlie Brown Great Pumpkin Patch.” I was not prepared for special guest autograph signing appearances by “Charlie Manson” & photographic memorabilia with “Jeffery Dahmer.”
I haven’t spoke to my wife in a week. To be honest, I fear for my life. My children are not safe. The children attending this party are not safe.
As I’m writing this she sends me a text message, “Hey Babe, when are we booking Disney World?” Lol. I choked on my beer and texted back, “You just beheaded your neighbor and dug up dead bodies from the local graveyard and now you want to go play with Mickey Mouse? I think you need help. Party is cancelled.
A second verse came to life as I was lazy & did not publish the above post written a week ago. (Glad I procrastinated & allowed the festivities to take a natural course)
The shit I witnessed within four hours of a 12 year old Halloween Party has convinced me our children do not know the difference between “Explicit” & “Clean” versions of a rap song. I had rules. Clean versions only. I tried to let the kids have their space and enjoy the party. Eventually I had to pee. On my way to the bathroom I couldn’t help but absorb the musical lyrics serenading the children in attendance. All I could see is seventeen pre-teens swaying on a brown micro suede couch slow dancing to a song where the artist is discussing hookers and slinging rock on the corner of 188th & 8th. Every child present sang this shit word for word like they were hosting the “Harlem Crack Awards.” Meanwhile, my boys failed English seven times & the only rock they have ever slung was a “pet rock” from Walgreens.
Party wasn’t cancelled. I’m glad I had the opportunity to continue on this topic.
As my children’s guest arrived I hid under the dishwasher praying for this ordeal to end.
Then something magical happened. I was informed Joey D, my sister Gina, Paulie O & my cousin Tara were coming over. I was half asleep but this is my crew and I always rise to the occasion. But my cousin Tara had something on her mind. She was accused of being “angry” & “upset” because allegedly her screen door was damaged at a party she hosted. Let me tell you all something. I’ve known Tara my whole life. She is like a sister. She has raised a family in homes engulfed in “Black Mold.” Her front doors have never worked properly. Her decks have violated every building code known to man. Her wood floors have embedded splinters into her children’s feet for decades. Her laundry hasn’t been washed in years. Her pool has collapsed six times in 6 different locations. Unless Bacardi goes out of business this woman don’t give a rats ass. If you think she gets mad at a screen door being broke you don’t know her. Even I laughed at that.
We instantly cracked three bottles of wine, a bottle of Jameson & my sister Gina started stretching on my pergo floor like “Richard Simmons” at a colonoscopy. Even my wife had a Pilsner of beer. It was exciting. We took over the music. I felt at peace again. Then my cousin Joey D said something inappropriate as always and made the night even better. My brother in law Paul played with his hair for an uncomfortable hour. He made several attempts to lure my sister home. This woman could not be removed from a social gathering if you tied her ass to a dump truck during “bulk pickup.”
In the end the party was a success. I’ll never do it again.
As people left my wife walked around the home with Lysol, a shop vac, spray 9, a power washer, Clorox, Goo Gone & a garden hose like she’s trying out to be the next ghostbuster!
House was clean though!