Oh No She Didn’t!
January 4th, 2010
Let’s just say that New Year’s Eve involved laughter, dancing, tears, hysterics, a fifth of Bacardi 151, some puking and some more crying.
No, no, it wasn’t me.
It was Paige.
And her friends.
Yep.
As you can imagine, these first few hours into the New Year were spent… how do you say? Opening a can of whoopass? Tearing someone a new asshole? Raking someone over the coals? All of the above?
I don’t mean to open Paige up to public ridicule here on this blog. Really, I don’t. But this blog is my therapy and it seems to help keep my emotions from drowning me. I am a single parent and just can’t say things like, “Honey, I am leaving for a couple of days, you deal with it.” It’s me. 24/7.
So a couple of weeks ago, I agreed to host a teen girl NYE bash. Call me crazy, but I really love this child and it seem to be a good way of keeping the girls safe and contained on a night generally reserved for partying teens. I was explicit about the fact that any alcohol or illegal substance caught in the house would pretty much mean a life sentence with no chance of parole for Paige. VERY EXPLICIT. LIKE I AM IN YOUR FACE 10 TIMES A DAY REMINDING YOU THAT NO ALCOHOL OR DRUGS WILL EVER BE TOLERATED. EVER.
Well let this be a cautionary tale for you parents – you can never sleep when you have teenagers. Not even for a second.
New Year’s Day Reenactment
Day of: Girl swipes fifth of 151 rum & pint of Triple sec from parent’s liquor cabinet.
5:00 pm: Girls trickle in the door and turn on the misogynistic rap music speckled with some Queen & Phil Collins. You heard me – PHIL COLLINS. That hell raiser.
5:00 pm – 11:45 pm: Dinner, dancing, cupcakes and movies.
11:45 pm: We break out the Martinelli’s Sparkling Cider and toast in the New Year.
12:00 am: The girls go outside and scream, “Happy New Year’s!!” to the neighborhood. I giggle. Then cringe.
12:10 am: I go to bed.
12:15 am: The girls break out the liquor, mix it with some pineapple juice and have at it. Apparently they equate one shot of liquor to the size of one glass of wine.
12:16 am: They are drunk.
12:17 am: They drink some more so they can be slobbering drunk.
1:00 am: They are dancing and laughing.
1:15 am: Someone starts crying.
1:30 am: They all start crying.
1:35 am: I wake up briefly and tell them to quiet down. They do.
2:45 am: I wake up in middle of night to go to bathroom. It smells terrible in there. Awful. I look in garbage can and it’s full of paper towels soiled with puke. I notice bathroom mat is wet and hanging on shower curtain. There are still chunks of puke attached to it.
2:46 am: I wake Paige up and ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE. She smells like a sailor. I call her out. She starts crying.
4:00 am: Paige is still crying.
9:00 am: I wake everyone up with a “Happy New Year, you are so BUSTED” talk. Despite desperate pleading not to … I CALL EVERYONE’S PARENTS.
TWO DAYS LATER: Paige is still crying. And Phil Collins’s music is now officially banned from our house.
This entry was posted on Monday, January 4th, 2010 at 4:30 am and is filed under Daily. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
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