Party Planning with Your Partner

If you’re thinking about getting married anytime soon, I have some important advice for you. Throw any party you plan on giving at any point in your life right now. Aunt Millie’s 80th birthday? So what if she’s only 68 right now. Throw it. Your parent’s 50th wedding anniversary? So what if they are only on year 47. Throw it. Your sister’s bachelorette party? So what if she’s dating a loser with no hope of ever settling down. Throw it.

Throw them all now. Before you get married. Before you have to make every decision as a couple. Before you lose the power to veto balloon animals at your 30th birthday party. Because when you get married, you become a partner. You decide things together. You plan things as a couple. And suddenly, party planning takes a nasty turn at the dessert table.

Chris and I are throwing a big party this weekend. We are actually throwing ourselves a housewarming party. Lots of friends. Lots of food. Even more beer. In fact, if you’re reading this and you know us and you didn’t get an invite, consider it an oversight because we invited everyone we knew. So come on over Saturday and warm our house. Its gonna be fun. Especially if Chris keeps driving me crazy like he has been doing this week. You might show up to find me beating him like a piƒ ±ata in our backyard with a shovel. And if I’m feeling really good, I might let you take a swing too. Trust me – I throw a good party.

I understand that this is our first big event at our new house. I understand the need for the house to look the best it can possibly look. But Rome wasn’t built in a day and our flower beds certainly aren’t going to bloom in a week. But still, Chris continues to kill himself trying to make it happen. He wants to paint, to landscape, to remodel, to buy furniture.   And he wants it all done in about a 3 day period.   So he continues to walk around the house like a man on a mission every afternoon after work. I come home after a long day, expecting to be able to relax, or at the very least take off my shoes, but I walk in the house to find him in a crappy mood, covered in dirt from the yard, hanging speakers outside, and shouting directions to me. I’ve started walking around the house carrying a bottle of Lysol so that whenever he yells at me to do something, I can spray whatever piece of furniture is closest to me and say I’m cleaning something.

I know what you’re thinking. “Gosh you’re lucky to be married to someone who takes such pride in your home.” What a load of crap. He’s about two seconds away from me shoving a rake up his ass and turning him into yard art.   I’m sure on Saturday I will be thankful as our guests arrive and tell me what a beautiful house we have. I’m sure I’ll swell with pride and will smile affectionately at Chris (who may or may not be on a pole next to my yard nome). But today, in this moment, he’s driving me crazy.

And now I need to go. I’ve already been awake for half an hour and I haven’t pretended to clean anything yet…