We all travelled to the town where the party was to be held and luckily enough, my Mum has a house that can accommodate our massive family. It was also located 2 blocks from the party venue. In typical fashion, I could not find a babysitter so we were all a bit stuck. But when life hands you lemons, I intended on making margaritas so the kids came along. I am sure it was going to be tame and nothing would damage them in the long run.
The theme for the party was Tarts, Vicars and Mourners as Mrs Ryan was throwing herself a wake to commemorate the first 40 years of her life. I love a dress up party. And despite his extremely straight and conservative persona, Mr Woog LOVES a dress up party. I thought it would be hilarious and ironic if we went as a nun and a monk. I took Mrs Ryan out to collect her angel outfit. When we got to the hire shop, I told her that going as an angel was dead boring and it was her party and just was freshly spray tanned and needed to go as something a little more...... you know.... Birthday Girl Standout.
I found a naughty nurse outfit which was ok, then we found Officer Naughty. And I insisted that Officer Naughty must come to the party. And Mrs Ryan agreed.
The party was held in an old church that has recently been resurrected as a bar. Which fitted the theme perfectly. As we arrived, I spotted a nun who was 40 weeks pregnant so my outfit was not as funny as hers. There were cardinals, priests, a few slutty looking tarts and many mourners. But only one Officer Naughty.
Officer Naughty, Myself and the Wicked Step Mother.I had to give a speech where I paid Mrs Ryan out a fair bit. At the end of it Jack came up and said he loved my "News" time. Except for the naughty words. And where there was cake, there was Jack. And when the band started, he was glued to the dance floor.
mmmmmm cake
Officer Naughty flanked by her parents.As the night went on and the wine flowed, some inappropriate behaviour started and Mr Woog threw in his monk wig and took the Woogettes home, despite howling protests by the kids who were hocked up on soft drink by this stage. Which was a good thing as Mrs Ryan proceeded to do a semi-strip on the stage to You Can Leave Your Hat On. And she was so professional that our parents separately enquired if indeed she has done a stint at a girlie bar. (She has not). Officer Naughty Rocked. And speaking of rocks, her husband Mr Ryan did a fabulous job in presenting her with a custom made UberKate aquamarine and diamond knuckle duster. Which was the only classy thing she wore all night.
Me? I was trying to create a shortage at the bar. And pretending I was auditioning for So You Think You Can Dance on the dance floor. The night went on and I was being spun about by my sister Painefull's fauxmance friend Tim when he dropped me during an ill-timed dip. So I lay there on the dance floor in my nun habit looking up at the spinning lights on the ceiling, searching for a sign from God to go home. He did not comply. Instead the band started up with a Violent Femmes song which saw me leap up and jump up on stage and grab the lead singer's mic.
Let me go on,
Like a blister in the sun,
Let me go on
Big hands I know you're the one.
Body and beats I stain my sheets
I don't even know why........
But eventually the party had to wrap up. And instead of kicking on at the local pub, I had an intervention with myself and decided I had partied too hearty already and wobbled on home with mum and a few other family members. But Officer Naughty was not done and went out with a gaggle of her pals to issue a few arrest warrants. When we got home, my sister Little Miss Lawyer called a taxi for Dad of Mrs Woog and WSM in the kitchen, a millisecond before vomiting into the sink.
Night over.
Next day, God decided to punish me for all my blasphemy and sins with a 9.0 hangover which was semi cured by Mum's Bacon Rolls and a really big coffee. I just cannot party like the old days. It was a dusty day which was punctuated by snoozing and hamburgers. And thanking the Lord that I do not do this very often.
And as the sun set on a long, long Sunday, I noticed Jack scratching his head. So the old man up there had the last laugh as I spent 2 hours de-nitting everyone and washing sheets.
AMEN.
