And it's not polite for you to muck around*
Last weekend, we had a Super Bowl party, and the husband and I were in agreement that this was our last party for quite a while. Then the girl asks if she can have an anti-Valentine's Day party, and of course we said, "Sure, why not?" We've got leftover party stuff from the Super Bowl party. It's always party time, which is better than a cold bath with someone you dislike.**
And then she invited 20 kids. Aaargh.
About 15 or 16 showed up.
Which was fine, sort of. I was at work and running errands and the girl took care of setting up for the party [man, it's nice to have a teenager, right?], so there was very little prep involved on my part.
The kids were mostly those we've known for at least 5 or 6 years, and they've been over for parties before. There were a few new kids, too.
One of the new kids ended up doing something stupid to another kid, and I had to be Mean Mom and yell at her and all the other kids for their general fuckery. Not yell yell. Speak authoritatively, I guess.
Well, this kid took it to heart, ended up calling her parents and leaving early.
Which made me feel awful, even though, seriously? Don't act like that. You're 14, not a baby.
So I felt/feel horrible, because I don't like making people feel bad.
I don't know. I hate dealing with people.
*That's from The Jazz Butcher's "Party Time" [Lyrics] which, if you have never heard it, please listen. [You Tube] He's fantastic.
** Also from that song.