In preparation, I bought 6 dozen tamales from Dallas Tortilla and Tamale Factory, a case of beer (big mistake), black beans, 2 new lawn chairs, 2 tiki torches, and Rockband. Well, I was going to get Rockband for Christmas anyway, but bought it early for G's party.
Things were going well for a while. M was doing a killer Mick Jagger impression, complete with protruding lips, arched back and jutting hips. My daughter was being her peppy, sweet self. She and her wonderful friend J made a delicious guacamole. G was happy that everyone was there to wish him a happy birthday evidenced by the grin on his face. He did, however, voice disappointment that his dad was late when he was always on time or early for everything else. Besides that, it was all going splendidly in my very small house with 6 dogs and 8 people.
I haven't sorted it all out in my head yet, but by the end of the night the highlights were:
- Leo (M's yorkie) jumping onto the table in an attempt to eat the cake;
- G forcing us to listen to hip-hop music, effectively clearing out the room;
- G getting angry because no one would give hip-hop a chance;
- my ex's youngest child taping down the sprayer nozzle at the kitchen sink which was intended for M but DD was the recipient instead;
- M and his dad (my ex) calling each other disgusting names;
- M spilling wine on his dad's shorts;
- copious amounts of F-bombs and shouting which caused Double D to go upstairs and hide;
- a cigarette hole in my new lawn chair;
- the patio littered with cigarette butts.
This is the third event in a row that has not gone well and alcohol was involved. Therefore, we will go back to taking the kids out to dinner on their birthdays and no alcohol at family gatherings. I feel like a terrible mother for allowing them to drink in the first place. My mother warned me to not serve alcohol. Why is she ALWAYS right?