A dozen teenaged boys.
A little cabin in the woods.
Ninety-six hot dogs.
A ton of snacks.
Four 2-liters of Vault.
Two 2-liters of Mountain Dew.
Light sabers and Heroscape.
An eighteen hour party.
No sleep for the boys.
Little sleep for the dad.
It's time to recover.
Houdin threw his first party, planned and executed by him. He invited a bunch of homeschooled boys and a neighbor, prepared the cabin for his guests, prepared pancakes for breakfast and promoted the event as much as he could. I would say it was a success.
Now he's supposed to do all of the clean-up, too. When I visited the cabin (there were no girls allowed for the 18 hour period), Monet was passed out open-mouthed on the recliner and Houdin was completely dead to the world in the upstairs bed. He told me a few minutes ago that it's now cleaner--cleaner than it was--and that he's preparing to do the dishes that he toted up from the cabin. I hope his standards have somehow magically risen to meet mine!
It's Bard's turn next. She gets to have a girly party and plan it herself.
But for now, I'm going to go downstairs and relax. The rest of the world can party on without me.
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