The Big Daddy and I entertain often. This requires a lot of work and planning to make sure things go smoothly. BD? He’s flown by the seat of his pants from the second his Momma gave birth to him. He plans nothing.
A few years ago, we had a chili party. I sent out invitations and made two different kinds of chili ahead of time. Moved furniture. Cleaned the house and porch. Scrubbed the bathroom. Got wine, beer, napkins and glasses. Decorated and strategically placed mood candles. In order to help out, The Big Daddy left work after lunch, came home, changed his clothes and trimmed the trees. When my neighbor saw him up on a ladder sawing branches she called to make sure we were having a party that night, Yes, it’s tonight. Yes, in a couple of hours. Yes, he’s “helping” me.
Last year, we had a Christmas party with even more people invited. The BD stayed home in the morning to help out before leaving for a meeting, and cleaned the backyard of dog crap. A different neighbor called that time to see if I wanted her to tell him to get in the house. You know, where the party was going to be.
Pre-Entertaining Man Stupidity runs rampant at this time of year. There is no known remedy, but symptoms can be managed with a shop vac, leaf blower or chainsaw. Extreme cases may require a bobcat.
Party on.
