My family is away this week. I won’t tell you which days specifically because I’m terrified of the Internet raping me, but it is sometime this week. I guess if you camped outside my house for the entirety of the remainder of July you will be able to figure it out. Please don’t do that. I don’t want to get raped and you don’t want the paperwork.
Every year my family goes to Maine and every year since I was 18, I’ve held the fort down. It is my vacation when the 6 other human beings leave the house. Just me and my pets, enjoying our time off from the hustle and bustle that accompanies a loud, large family living in a medium sized house.
The year that I was 18, I made the mistake of inviting people over. Scratch that – I made the mistake of inviting people over and allowing them to invite people over. I’ll just skip to the end: the cops came and kicked everyone who was over 18 out of my house and arrested everyone under 18, pictures of the party ended up on MySpace and my cousin saw them on his laptop while he was on vacation with my family and showed them to my parents. My grandmother, who had been called by my parents to go check up on their degenerate daughter who wasn’t answering their early morning phone calls, found me sleeping on top of my blankets on my bed with the AC on high, the windows open and my bra unhooked but still on.
Kids: Don’t throw a party when your parents go away. Trust me on this one. Allow other people to throw the party. The clean up is atrocious and the guilt you feel when your grandmother finds you half braless with smudged makeup from the night before is one of the worst feelings in the world.
So this year, like every year since that ill planned week, I’m not having a party. I selected a handful of friends and invited them to a Facebook event that explained I will be completely free for the next few days and would like them to come, but not at all once and definitely not at all if they’re planning on doing something that will cause the police to show up at my house.
If you do happen to throw a party and that party does indeed get busted by the cops, do yourself a favor and tell your parents immediately. Because maybe, just maybe, 4 years down the line, a drunk driver might drive into your pool at 3 in the morning. And maybe, just maybe, when the cops arrive, one might gaze thoughtfully at the house while asking himself, “Why does this place look so familiar?” His face might light up and his eyebrows may rise as he answers his own query: “Oh, I broke up a huge party here once.”
And then maybe, just maybe, your pajama pants wearing self will stare at him, stare at your parents and then back at him, all while wondering how something can bite you in the butt so far down the line.
(image via curtispublishing.com)