My 13-year old son is having his confirmation on Friday. This is all fine and lovely and meaningful. However. This also means I have to throw a bit of a shindig. Which means I have to organize and prepare food and drink and flowers. Which means I have to get the house in order. Which means I have to clean and vacuum and dust. Which means I have to attack the dusty chandeliers I have neglected all summer. My husband has taken the step-ladder. Which means I have to get a stool. And several phone books. And try to balance on them, in order to reach the lights.
Housework is the absolute BANE of my existence. In fact, I'm pretty confident that in purgatory, that's what they make you do. That, and painting endless rooms and woodwork. With smelly oil paint.
But I digress. I should actually be looking forward to a family gathering to celebrate my son's special day. Unfortunately, I'm not a big entertaining-type person. I always seem to get into a huge flap. The proverbial headless chicken, running around, squawking....But still, look at all those darned crystals.....
Before I get back to my endless list of menial , fussy, neverending, unrewarding tasks, tell me, do you enjoy throwing parties, or would you rather just sit in a comfy corner with your nose buried in a book and a do not disturb sign glued to your forehead (like, um......me).