Manifesto

Dear Children,
I think, at a conservative estimate, I have thrown over a hundred birthday parties for the four of you. Do the math.
I have also hosted almost every Christmas and Thanksgiving since 1976. This is a long time and a lot of dinners.
And no, don't thank me, I have been happy to do it. It has been my joy.
But your mother is tired. So is your father. I know you look at us and you think, "Poor Mom, poor Dad. They are getting so old."
But you know what? We are not that old. We are merely tired. No. We are exhausted.

Now don't get me wrong. We are not too exhausted to host these parties. We can go to the store and buy the food and grill it and cook it and bake it and we can tend the garden and pick and prepare the food we have grown and we can provide the linens and tableware and so forth. And condiments. Lots of condiments.
And we want to do that. Like I said, it is our joy.

But. There will be no more cleaning up after by your daddy or myself.
And this does not mean that we will be left with a dirty kitchen.
No. It does not.
It means that between the four of you, somehow, some way, the kitchen shall be put back in proper order before you leave or go to bed, depending on whether or not you are spending the night. And this does not mean that any one or two of you is stuck here cleaning while the others are off gallivanting at your next event.
We realize that your time is important and that you have social lives but you must realize that we are so very, very tired. Life has worn our asses out. We, too, used to have a social life but now we don't because...we don't have the energy. Especially by the time one of these party/feasts has been consumed. And you know I am not a sloppy cook. I wash up as I go and I figure that by the time the meal is ready for the table, I have, again estimating conservatively, washed approximately one thousand pots, bowls, plates, and utensils.

So that is it, dear children. I am more thrilled than you can know that you all still want to come out to party with the parents but I just can't take the whole clean-up situation any more.
And don't even bother saying things like, "But I always help clean up."
I know you do. You all help.
But from now on, you will be helping each other while your very tired daddy and your very tired mother make a drink and sit and bask in the glory of our golden years. Or at least, our bronze years. Okay?
Maybe we can watch Owen. Yes. I think we can do that.

Here's to a great birthday season! See you all (except for you, May and we will miss you with all of our hearts!) on Saturday. And we shall get our party on and it will be fabulous.

Especially for me.

Love....Your Mama