How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...
Like other parties of the kind, it was first silent, then talky, then argumentative, then disputatious, then unintelligible, then altogether, then inarticulate, and then drunk. When we had reached the last step of this glorious ladder, it was difficult to get down again without stumbling. ~George Gordon Byron
I thought this quote really describes some of the parties we throw at our house. You know, the kind where, like, every relative we can get a hold of is invited, and they all show up, with spouses, kids, sometimes with dogs, sometimes with neighbors and people they must pick up by the side of the road because they look like they're in dire need of a damn good party.
It was a holiday on Sunday. OK, it was a holiday in Hungary, and we live in the US (our sincere apologies to Vörösmarty Mihály). But hey, we may not actually live in Hungary, but we're still Hungarian, some of us more than others. So we throw a party. Because we can.
The whole celebratory thing started in the morning, with a huge breakfast for those clever people who had arrived early in the morning, knowing my mom would have cooked enough food to feed Eurasia. There were about a dozen people for breakfast, and we ate a lot, and talked a lot, many times simultaneously. Can you say cacophony? People were sharing gossip, telling jokes, arguing about politics, and even Chuck Norris got a mention. It was fun. After breakfast, while some of us unfortunates were drafted for dishwashing duty, other people went outside and continued the whole thing, because a party must not be interrupted. Ever.
Lunch arrived, and more food was had by all. More people had arrived in the meantime, and my dad was having a lot of fun being the gracious host. There were kids running all over the place, and you know this means Turtle must be sequestered somewhere so the kids won't get rowdy with the poor thing. After lunch people in general beached themselves around the back yard and gabbed and gabbed. After doing slave duty in the kitchen, I joined my friends and we had our own little party with music and drinks. My dad was in a very good mood and actually said we could have some of his wine. I made sure he repeated this in front of witnesses, and then helped myself to some bottles.
The party got rowdier and louder as more people arrived for the main event, dinner. More food was brought in and was joyfully eaten. In between all the eating there were games, music, dancing, more games, more joking, more mentions of Chuck Norris and other notables. The merriment went on till the wee hours. Me and my friends adjoured to the den to watch The 4400, and then we played some games as we stuffed our faces with dessert. It was shameful, really. Jenny Craig must be frowning somewhere.
And we get to do it again next year! Yep, we're unrepentant. Oink.
Got palacsinta? Love chocolate sauce? Email eza-news at yahoo.com
