Here’s the scene:

Evite to a school mate’s birthday party is sent out about three weeks before the big day. Party was a pool party at the birthday child’s home.  

On the of day of the party, I checked my evite to make sure I had the address and noticed there were 32 RSVPs. Nice turnout, I think.  I also noticed the home was in one of the most upscale subdivisions this side of the Sunshine State.  

Sky was looking pretty cloudy all morning and about an hour before the party was scheduled to begin it started raining pretty hard. 

Went anyway thinking that there must be a Plan B until rain stopped.  We  pull up to the house which was officially declared “A Mansion!” by Oldest.   (The inside of the home was probably about 10,000 square feet.)  The lawn was perfectly manicured,  house was stunning, it was all just beautiful.

We make a dash for the front door and ring the bell.  I think I can hear kids screaming from around the backyard and I’m slightly confused considering it’s pouring.  No one answers the door, so I let myself in.  As I’m walking through the house, I’m even more confused because the inside is totally empty.

I walked past at least two or three totally empty living rooms, beautifully decorated, with many large, over stuffed couches and chairs. Beautiful, hard wood floors.  Thankfully I don’t have to worry about getting the carpet wet.   I noticed a beautiful breakfast “nook” with a large, wooden table that sat ten people. TEN PEOPLE. Finally, I find the birthday boy’s grandmother standing in the kitchen that overlooks the back of the house.  The house is on the water.  Nice.

Grandma instructs me to go outside and I still don’t think much of it.  Surely a house like this has a screened in lanai and some type of covering to keep all 32+ of us dry.  

I try to open the French doors that led to the backyard, but can barely open them because there are about  20 parents standing on the small portion of the back patio that was covered.  They were huddled together, pretending to  have polite conversation, and pretending that the wind was not whipping the rain onto the porch and getting them all wet while a huge house behind them sat totally empty.  

Everyone was standing because there were only two chairs on the patio. Several parents wrapped towels around themselves to keep dry even though it was hot and humid like it typically is this time of year.

At some point, Grandpa brought in the presents that were sitting outside under a tent and had the nerve to say, “Can’t let the gifts get all wet!”

About an hour in, the rain started to slow down.  Cue the mosquitoes that came off the waterway the house sat on.  Everyone started smacking at their necks, legs, and arms.

The children, dressed in appropriate monsoon attire (ie. swimming suites), were running around the yard or swimming in the pool having the time of their lives while stirring up all the gnats in the grass.  While I sat stood there getting eaten alive, I wondered how long it would be before food and cake were served because I was going to leave the second after.  One mom asked me if the bugs were eating at me like they were eating her.  Yes, I say with a forced smile.

Foolish of me to think that there would be any food.  Unless you count a  piece of cake as food. No hot dogs, or pizza. Not even chips or popcorn.  To drink? Small bottled water or four ounce size juice boxes.   

I kept turning around and looking into the huge, air conditioned house, wondering why people who don’t want people in their house would bother to throw a party at.their.house.  Especially when the subdivision they live in has a huge pool and water play area that can be reserved for parties.  There is even a club house that overlooks the pool. 

As soon as cake was over, parents made a beeline for the exit.  I was one of the first to scoop up my kiddos. As we  were walking to our car, several parents were pulling back up to the house.  These parents were the few smart ones that noticed the buffonery and decided they were not going to stand outside in the rain.  They probably went to the Starbucks up the street and enjoyed a cup of hot Joe while the rest of us suffered the consequences of our innocence.

I left there with a puffy afro (thanks to the humidity) and bug bites all over my arms and neck waiting for  Ashton Kutcher to jump out behind the bushes.  

Talk about madness!!!

Happy Monday!

The foolish things that further complicate my day. This morning I hopped into the car on the way to the metro to commute in to work and realized that my feet were embarrasingly dry and ashy. So I took out my fabulous hand lotion and decided to lotion my feet (I wasn’t driving, Hubby was). By the time I was 10 steps away from the car in the metro parking lot, it was apparent that there was a problem. My feet were so “moisturized” that they were slipping and sliding in and out of my wedge sandals. It was ridiculous. I was taking baby steps and trying not to look like an a*s while trekking the 1/2 mile to the metro station with my shoes flopping. Hubby even tried wiping some lotion off of my feet right there in the parking lot (bless him).  So I hobbled to the train and then to my office where I promptly kicked them off and shoved my feet into the pair of random slides that I keep under my desk. So much for my cute wedges.