If this is the picture you have in your head of a Teenager’s birthday party, then I don’t want to ruin your illusions. However, if you want to hear the reality of what would happen if you were
nice naive enough let your daughter have a 16th birthday party in your house, then read on.
Caveat: I have promised to omit certain portions of the fateful event to avoid any potentially EMBARRASSING details (like its not ALL embarrassing) related to the York Region Police hanging out at my house.
The Diva was turning 16. She had had a Bat-Mitzvah of somewhat extravagant proportions, so she was not getting a Sweet 16 party. Against my better judgement, I agreed she could have a party in the house. The following conditions applied:
- No more than 50 kids, with a written guest list
- I would be home, albeit ‘hiding’ in my room, but wearing my PJs with MILF on the bum in case a house-clearing and total embarrassment were necessary
- My nephew, who is 22 and well over 6 ft tall, and who competes in MMA fighting would ‘bounce’ the party
- There would be no drinking or drugs at all in the house, as they would all be underage. For more information about the LCBOs policy on underage drinking, click here.
She agreed to the above conditions easily, and invited the 50 selected kids, providing my nephew with a guest list. She did not agree, however, to my wearing of the embarrassing PJs. (She made me swear not to wear them but I wore them anyway). We send Big J out for the evening, since his overly neurotic tendencies would have been untenable.
Some highlights of the misbegotten event:
Too many boys: The kids started to arrive, and kept arriving. My daughter for some reason invited way more boys than girls to this party.And they kept coming. At one point, yet another group of 15 boys arrived at the front door (not on the guest list, but SWEARING that they were Diva’s best friends), and my gargantuan nephew offered to let them in if one of the boys wanted to ‘fight’ him for entry. Obviously, that was an offer they definitely could refuse, and they ended up loitering on my lawn (see police reference at the beginning).
This party SUCKS: Once the kids realized it was a ‘dry’ party, a bunch of them left to try their luck at someone else’s house.
Flirting with the bouncers: The girls who did stay spent the evening ogling my gorgeous nephew and his cute friend, fluffing their hair, pretending they weren’t sixteen, and ignoring their catatonic male peers (see next paragraph)
Catatonic Male Peers: Since I had said no drugs or alcohol at the party, these boys thought it would be a really great work-around to drink excessively before the party. Now, since I was banished to my room in case of emergencies, and I had mistakenly trusted that my no-drinking rule meant the kids would NOT be drinking, I didn’t know about this until I came downstairs, yes wearing the MILF PJs, upon hearing adult voices (again, see above police reference), to see children draped all over my hallway awaiting their taxis or parental pick-ups.
That alcohol has to go somewhere: My house was used as a BARFATORIUM (SNL reference circa 1970s). Everywhere. And I mean it. Where were the grossest places? ON my kitchen table. Dribbled across the kitchen. And, most disgustingly, in my nanny’s bathtub in the basement. Like a barf-trough.
The Next Day…
A thief amongst us? The Diva started to get messages from a bunch of the boys asking her if she had seen their cell phones. None of them could recollect where their phones were (shocking…). Personally, I thought that their cell-phones must have been left in a park or at a bus stop or whatever other stupid venue was chosen for the underage drinking I had forbidden. Moments later, she received a BBM from one of the boys. It read: ‘My backpack is full of cell phones. Like 20 of them. What the hell?’
How do you break a toilet? Little J went to use the powder room toilet, and came out holding the flusher. Exactly what were the boys doing in the bathroom, as well as how did they take off that handle, is a mystery that will never be solved, similar to the Caramilk Secret?
Lessons learned (by me):
- Never let 16 year olds have a party at your house.
- Kids are the same as they were when I was a teenager, except now I’m the parent.
Lessons I hope the kids learned:
- Don’t drink until you’re old enough. (Most important lesson!)
- Don’t drink enough to need to vomit in someone’s bathtub.
- Don’t leave your cell phone unattended when there’s a drunk 16 year old around.
- Use a toilet with care.