Sure, Keely, you say. You always have a good time/eat too much food/nap during the chaos/watch MST3k your Dad and old movies with your Mom. What made this trip so boss?
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| He shreds. |
Well, there was live music. Featuring my Dad.
And two bands.
Three if you count my sister Chelly wailing on the vocals.
And the food was in a buffet- that means that no one really knew how much food was consumed. (Secret: new plate each time? Little convo with a new party guest each go ’round the food table? That’s how it’s done. “Oh, Keely, you should eat. Think of the baby!” “Well…okay.”)
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| A rare, non-food table picture. |
Learned that trick back in ’92 from a good friend.
On one day alone, I made four (4) trips for a bowl of sausages ALONE. That’s right. Not even a flower for garnish. Bowl o’ sausages. And that was just that type of meat. There were others. And I had some enchiladas and oriental salad and salad salad and pasta and potato salad (even though I do not- generally- care for the potato) and chips and multiple cupcakes originally in the shape of a sunflower.
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| Where’s your I.D.? |
The night before, I had been in charge of frosting the yellow ones. There were many delicious (and temper-tantrumy) casualties.
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| Kazoo= instant party. |
The music was epic. The groupies were out of hand.
But easily, the best part was the one-on-one (or, rather, sixty-on-one) with the birthday boy himself.
And the pulled pork sammiches.
But mostly my Dad.
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| You’re the best at this, Pop. |
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