Can i get an amen?!

I have a new respect for social people. I do. It’s hard work!! Or maybe it’s just coz I’m such a hermit, but for real !! I used to think the hardest thing in the world is to attend a party. [I’m the type that carries a book, finds a corner and a bright light, and disappears there till hometime] Clearly, I was wrong. Hosting a shindig is waaaaaaaaay worse.

Let me explain. I never, and I mean NEVER visit people. So if I have ever visited you, you have some strong juju. If I have visited you more than once, hebu give back those blackmail photos you’re haunting me with. If I have visted you voluntarily, you are clearly one of my special ten, mnajijua, na kama hamkujua, then now you know ;).

[Note to the ten of you, if I visit you voluntarily, and more than once, then know that I would kill or die for you. That’s how much you mean to me, and that’s how much I hate the whole socializing thing. And this includes online ‘visits’, so Kei, *M* and MFM, you can open the champagne now ;)]

The only other reason I visit anyone is for Princess. She is like the social butterfly. In fact, she makes social butterflies look like caterpillars. The kind of caterpillars that moult into dull homely moths. That’s how social she is.

So I hosted a shindig for her. I invited my cousin, the only person I visit regularly, and I do it strictly for Princess pleasure – the cousin has a child her age and they adore each other. I show up, plunk on a cushion, watch her thrive, and set my stopwatch to hometime.

Anyway, I invited my cousins, both sets. And both had houseguests. So from a possible guestlist of five, I ended up with 21. Now don’t get me wrong – these are all people I adore, and all share my DNA. But this is me – I am such a hermit that mould is afraid of me. My housemates have been known to go for days without seeing me, and it’s not because they were out partying.

Plus my 10 by 10 foot sitting room can only seat so many. So I divided the guests into three sets and timecoded them in shifts. Round one were mostly teenagers, so I took them first while the energy levels were high. They were easy enough to please – candy, sodas, and a few DVDs and they were good to go. Minimal conversation needed except a few private jokes with the older ones, and some refereeing during present time for the younger ones. So far, so good.

Six o’clock, second round. Out comes the second half of the cake and the second cut-and-candles ceremony. This group consisted of the b…the ladies, an all girl gang.  Now let me say I’m not very good with girls. Coz I’m not good with small-talk, and girly smalltalk can be … painful. At least with guys we can do ball and politics. So when the conversation shifted to pushup bras, stepmothers,  and the benefits of sleeping birthday suits, I promptly shifted my focus to the Tom and Jerry that princess was watching.

I had survived round 1 by playing paparazzi, but my girls promptly nyang’anyad me the camera, so I had to actually host. Did I mention that being DNA-type women, I had to clean up before they came in? Cleaning up after 10 teens and kids is hard. Cleaning up after 10 kids and teens to satisfy mother figures is torturous. Doing the above in under five minutes is pure waterboarding. help!

Anyway, after some cakes, some candy, some requests for [fortunately nonexistent] alcohol and some painful smalltalk, I saw them off. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m glad they came, and it was nice to see them. But for me, the seeing is the fun part. I’m quite content to see my dear ones at a train station, hug, smile, and wave them away. Actually having to sit and converse with anyone outside the ten [whom i shall from now on refer to as kumi kumi (heehee)] is some form of h- no wait, I can’t say that about family. **blushing**

By 8 i figured I was off the hook and had started dozing off when I got the call asking for directions. For a split second I considered ignoring the call, but I adore these people, and I did ask them to come, and princess is already glowing at the thought of one more present.

The last stage is easy. They’ve had a long day too, and we are content to analyse baby pictures. A very interesting comment was made – “You must have had a wonderful childhood – your parents were always there taking pictures…”

I couldn’t think of how to answer that, but I was inexplicably sad for the rest of the night. Of course a few minutes later they were looking at a picture of me and my mum in a kitchen dressed in matching khangas. I must have been like a year or two old, and they said ‘Now that’s just spoiling a child!’

I had to laugh, coz I do that with princess all the time, and coz my mum never tires of telling me how much she spoilt me. I guess life is all about perspective.

At last my day was done and I was left alone with my bed and a sated baby girl. I spent the WHOLE next day in bed, getting over my social, swearing to never ever do that again, and thanking God birthdays come just once a year. Happy birthday princess. **hugs**

PS : the moral of the story is always pay your rent on time and be friends with your landlord. After I told him I had guests, he voluntarily called off the plumbers for me. I didn’t even have to ask. Yay! Plus, since I was too exhausted to do anything the next day, his kids made pilau, fed princess, and brought me some in a casserole, all while I lay lazing in bed, and all without me asking for a single thing! How cool is that!!

Of course now I just got a call that they all want to go to the beach with princess and I can’t refuse. So I’ve sent her a bodyguard and am now biting my nails worrying about all the things that could happen to my baby at the beach without me – including having fun!! I can just hear her reprimand my worrying mind “Mummy! I”m not a baby! I’m six years old!” Thank heavens for little girls 🙂