Can't hear myself think!

I never thought of my house as a party house. Neither does my husband. We like to have friends over for dinner al fresco, and an early bedtime. But it seems we have bred a "event planner".

Seems our D#1 is the "go to" person for throwing her friends a party. Be it a kickback or birthday bash, she seems to be the one who organizes it. So here I am, on a Saturday night, sitting on my bed, blogging with EAR PLUGS as D#1 has thrown another party.

Last time she threw a "little party" the list included 60 people and a facebook rsvp. We said NO! She fought a valiant fight and sulked for days after agreeing to only 40 even though "that is so lame." Then 60 showed up! Seems texting is the new invite.

She was overwhelmed and then swung into action. She got tough with those she did not know and asked them to leave. She confiscated the sneake-in beer and got us to patrol the driveway for the "unwanted texting crashers."

She learned her lesson. She agreed the plan was faulty.

This time we held firm on 40. She agreed with little fuss. D#1 got her friends to agree NOT to text about the party, 4 guy friends agreed to play bouncers and everyone donated to the kitty for food and drink.

So my house is turned upsidedown one more time. All the furniture has been moved out of the den and signs posted everywhere stating NO SMOKING or you PAY A FINE. The DJ has the music throbbing and playing the all sorts of weird tunes. I hear them dancing and hooting and hollaring.

Did I mention when the MJ tune Billie Jean played I danced in my room and shook my tired old booty as virgously as I used to as "Queen of the Disco!" I ain't dead yet.

Thanks D#1 for the fun. I can sleep when I'm dead.