Last Saturday was the annual Christmas party at our house. Every year, although there was a three year hiatus when parenthood was really putting a strain on our social life, we hold a Christmas party. We have lots of food and booze, but the deal is you must bring a toy or other item for a kid in need. Grunt Labor and Nicky started this Christmas party before I crashed their two-man band, but really how could I not jump in on such a fun tradition.
Since it is kind of an “all you can drink” type deal, things get a little loud.
Ok, crazy too.
Instead of “You might be a redneck if…”, here’s our version…
1. You were greeted by a “Shitter’s Full” sign on the front door.
2. You received random ass smacks and/or groping.
Seriously, we should have people sign a waiver before they walk through the door. In the words of one party goer, “She wound up for that one.” Hey, if I’m gonna smack an ass, I’m gonna do it right, damn it.
3. Your kid went home with one shoe.
The next day, you learned the party hosts had found the other missing shoe – it was under the beanbag, which was under the bed. Because isn’t that where bean bags belong?
4. The bottle of Patron you had been saving for eight years is now empty.
Damn your wife. Sorry, Grunt Labor. Ooopsie daisies.
5. You were ridiculed because you didn’t know who Conway Twitty and Loretta Lynn were.
It’s not completely your fault. You are a youngling. You just shared that little bit of information in the wrong household, sweetie pie.
6. You witnessed a five-year-old tell your four-year-old daughter that “It was an awesome party” with just as much enthusiasm as the adult guests said it when they left.
I guess the random kid’s socks in the front yard drove that point home.
7. When you asked your kid the next morning if she had fun at the party, her response was, “It rocked me out, mom.”
I have a feeling the Circus will continue on with the yearly Christmas party tradition long after Grunt and I are gone. That’s my girl.
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