That should have been the catchy phrase on the evite for my birthday party. Yes, the party that happened 2 weeks ago. Yes, the party I am just now blogging about.
The idea of a party came about 4 weeks after Carson was born. I was at the bar the library with Hubby and his co-worker. And let’s just say I was in a really happy mood. Party on Wayne. Party on Garth. Suddenly I am struck with the idea of having a big blow out party. My birthday was just an excuse. The evite was sent, the guest list created, and really it was a lot of Hubby’s co-workers. Sounded like a great time. Our friend PJ was bringing the kegs, Hubby was grilling the food. (He is the grill master…)
(Notice Avery’s picnic table is the makeshift bar? A very well stocked bar I might add)
We had games – horseshoes, bocce, and cornhole. Which the name of that game just dumbfounds me…but I digress.
Then came the pinata…
WTF? Right? But then it was “hell yeah”. Why not.
There were items to discuss.
1) What shape pinata does one have for an adult party? Penis? Blow Up Doll? Unicorn with a condom on the horn? Left to Hubby – it was the shape of a softball.
2) What, dare I ask, does one put in an adult pinata? Condoms? Little minibar bottles? Hell no.
Why, Jello Shots, of course!
Rules of the game: blindfolded and spun around once. Then have it with the authentic pinata stick.
That’s me. Since I was the birthday girl I got the first whack. I have a complex with making a fool of myself and people laughing at me so I only took one swing. I hit the tree.
Michelle was a ROCK STAR at the pinata stick. Even with Hubby pulling it up high as soon as she swung.
As was Martha. Elbow up!
The guys were funny too. They had to spin twice. And there were some samuri moves, some fancy footwork. They were not to be outdone by the ladies in the house.
But it was Lesley. Sweet, quiet Lesley who whacked the SHIT out of it. And broke it. See the piece flying…
Then came the rush. The frenzy of 20 adults picking up the fallen jello shots. They had lids on them when they were put in. But some fell off when they made their rapid descent. A little dirt never hurt anyone.
It wasn’t long after this that we got a noise complaint. From the neighbors behind us. Probably because we didn’t invite them. I mean, COME ON, close your damn windows. It was 10:30 at night. (I think – it’s still kind of a blur.) Not 2 am when we were playing horseshoes. Not 4 am when the firepit was out of control. Not 5 am when the last of the party goers left.
And here they are – the last of them. I took the picture…that’s why it’s fuzzy. It looked in focus at the time. It was just me and the guys. Still drinking. Still smoking. Still chillin’.
A great time WAS in fact had by all. But it took me about 3 days to recover. But I am proud that I drank for about 10 hours straight. And didn’t puke. However I think I’ll wait til the big 4-0 before trying to having another bash like this.