Full House

We had twenty-four people at our house for a Christmas buffet on Saturday. Or to be more specific, we had 16 adults, 7 kids, and 1 baby. Writing this, I wonder at what age we start counting a baby or kid as a full person on a guest list...when they can walk? When they can eat a full meal? When they can contribute to conversation?

There was also one dog at the gathering...George, of course. In the early morning, George saw signs that people were coming over soon. We were in the kitchen early, moving constantly, cooking and clanging dishes. When George wasn't under our feet waiting for crumbs to fall, he was at the front window waiting for cars to pull up.

George's perspective of our get-together must have been confusing. Instead of getting his afternoon nap, he saw the house fill with feet and noise, then he chased kids from room to room (and humped them when the opportunity arose). Instead of having quiet, cozy time on the couch, he was petted by strange hands and fed crackers by a sly three-year-old. After the last person left four hours later, and after the mountain of dishes had been surmounted, George crashed with us in front of the TV, too tired to look up.

We were tired, too. I hadn't sat down or even eaten during the whole thing, fueled by adrenaline that kept me filling glasses and monitoring the activity in each room. I guess the fun of hosting a party is watching everyone else have fun, right?

And like George, we crashed on the couch, satisfied with our foray into the Christmas Party scene. 16 hungry adults, 7 hyper kids, 1 spitting-up baby, 1 spastic dog, and us. I'm glad we have a year to rest before the next one.