A birthday party is supposed to be a time of celebration and gathering. Family members tend to give presents to their loved ones, to show that they are appreciated. I cannot quite say that about my family. Showing up drunk, hung over, or completely stoned is nothing new. Our birthday parties are more like tailgating parties. Everyone drank beer, was loud as possible and never paying attention to the birthday person. Football, Hockey, or Baseball grabs all of their attention. Sometimes it is as if they are actually in attendance at the game. My twelve-year-old party was no exception.
As usual, the whole family showed up. Everyone felt as if they had to be in attendance. They always knew that Grandpa would attempt to make a speech. I say this because he would always get up and fall back over. The alcohol takes control of his body pretty easily. His goal every year was to keep up with the “young guns” to prove he was still young. His speech that year will never be forgotten.
“Ok you guys, I just wanna let cha,” and then he fell backwards. It seems like every year, that’s as far as he gets. Everybody got a huge laugh out of him.
After grandpa gave his famous speech, it was time to cut the cake. Mother always insisted on cutting the cake. She always had to be the lady in charge. The party was under her control, and she knew it. The decorations were always put up by her, and were always perfect. Sometimes I thought she seemed to be to hyper. She ran around the room the entire time, making sure everyone was having a good time. Sometimes she just needed to sit down and relax.
Dad on the other hand was always laid back. Knowing my mom was always in charge, he always provided the beverages. Beer was the main beverage every year. Bud Light seemed to be the “family beer”. That would be the only beer in any of the coolers.
He always said,” If the party is ruined, you can’t blame me.” To this day, I have never blamed him for a bad party. Spontaneous things always seemed to occur.
As the party neared to an end, people began to make their way out. The room looked as if a tornado had ran right through it. Beer cans covered the entire floor, banners were tore down, and plates were everywhere. The only thing on my dads mind was, how he was getting home. He was never able to leave my parties by himself. Uncle Jim always seemed to be the one volunteering because they could chat about football on the ride home. Mom gathered all of the presents, and cleaned up the room. She was always the first one at the party, and the last one to leave.
Every year I am excited for my birthday. Not only because of the presents and the money, but also the entertainment. Something new and interesting happens every year. Hopefully as the years pass, the parties become crazier.
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