Insanity is my only means of relaxation. –Anon Y. Mous
Oh, the delicious thrill that is to be enjoyed the morning after hosting a party. Sweet relief and decadent leftovers!! Sure, there is a horrendous mess to clean up, but I’ll be honest with you—that’s Spike’s department. True confession: Spike owned a Kirby vacuum cleaner as a single man.
(Just the sight of all that equipment has been known make me scream, run, and hide.) It’s true that I learned about Spike’s Kirby after we’d been dating only a few weeks and I’ll admit that it worried me. What kind of guy owns a Kirby? Spike said he liked all the attachments because they made him feel powerful. I told him I didn’t want any more information on the topic. And, as Joyce’s daughter, Spike’s monologue about the Kirby was sort of like listening to a foreign language. Spike’s inner Hazel has proven to have kept our marriage intact. Yes, sometimes I feel as though I am a wife and I have a wife, but it’s not a bad deal in the long run. Joyce likes to borrow Spike once in a while, too, for housekeeping purposes.
Anyway, the First Communion party went off without a hitch and a good time was had by all. I mentioned last week that I’d be visiting the grocery store pre-party about 27 times, but I was wrong—-I made 34 trips. The final visit was for parmesan cheese three hours before the party began. I also panicked and went for eight pounds of pulled pork as opposed to six. The pork just smelled so damn good and I’m a firm believer that one can never have too much meat. People love lots of meat. Do you notice how no one takes a bun anymore? Everybody is all about meat. I bought 74 dollar buns and got rid of only 34. So my party hosting tip for you is this: meat will make you popular. Buns are yesterday’s news. Blame Atkins and all the carb-a-phobes, but it’s the truth.
Besides meat, people also love cheesy potatoes. And the cheesier they are, the better. Someone once said that it’s a mistake to think you can solve any major problems just with potatoes, but I don’t agree. I think there are many problems in life that can be settled and resolved over a big dish of cheesy potatoes. And I have an empty pan to prove it.
People were very generous in giving First Communion gifts to Bulldog. Only two of the gifts were a little suspect. One was a machine gun from Sheila:
The other was a whoopee cushion from Eddie:
So, this is what happened: Bulldog partook of the bread and the wine, blessed himself, and then spent the afternoon farting loudly and shooting everyone with Nerf darts. Some things are just not sacred anymore, are they?