I just attended a very exclusive, V.I.P.-only*, late night blowout party.
Even though I’m 15 years removed from college, it is refreshing to see that some things never change in the after-hours party scene:
- The lighting was dim.
- There was talk of getting out a bottle of the good stuff.
- Some of the other guests were already cashed out for the night.
- The odds are good that somebody will lose their pants.
- I caught myself looking a clock, wondering “what am I doing up at this hour?”.
- At one point, that guy who doesn’t say much was staggering around in circles.
- A foul smell and/or a mysterious wet patch was discovered.
- Which led to finding some nasty mess that needed to be cleaned up ASAP.
- You end up slowly rocking back and forth with a little cutie in your arms.
- The success or failure of your night is determined by what time you go to bed.
There were a couple of notable differences between tonight’s blowout bash and the ones I attended in my college days. Specifically, tonight it was just me and my 10 month old son. He had pooped out of his jammies, so I got to clean him up, change him, put a new sheet on the crib, and get him back to sleep before I could consider going to bed.
*Yep, “V.I.P.” stood for Very Important Parent. Sneaky little bugger, aren’t I? I’m pretty damn clever at 1:30 am.
As I held my boy and started to rock him back to sleep, he looked right at me with his big brown inquisitive eyes. I was a little afraid that the clean-up process had woken him up, and I was going to have to launch the 14-step “Get Baby To Sleep” battle plan.
Instead, he laid his head down on my shoulder, and did one of my absolute favorite things: he exhaled and sank his body onto me, half hugging me, and half falling asleep in my arms.
And I knew this party beat all of the parties I attended back in college – even if I did get poop on my fingers.