BEDA, Day 14: "Sweet Jesus I love me some honky-tonk."

Every August, my Pepe* has a party.

It's a birthday party that "he" (read "my family") puts on. He put it on the first year for his 69th birthday, I do believe. The next year, he decided not to, because turning 70 was just weird for him. From then to now, we've held the party for him.

That's where I am today.

He hires a band to play, and everyone brings food, and we have a party on the lawn.
I always have fun.

May I just say that the average median age for the partygoers at this party is about my mom's age, probably even older. There are practically NO younger people at the party.

Almost every year, I end up doing the chicken dance with Pepe's elderly neighbors and my moms. I laugh. A LOT.

My Pepe likes country music. I do not. I tolerate it, because I know it makes him happy. I just can't stand the "Mah wife left me/ She took mah dawg/ Now I ain't got no money/ So why not go to a hoedown / Sweet Jesus I love me some honky-tonk."
That is my personal hell. Not kidding. Okay, maybe my personal hell would be all my family and friends dead, and myself being experimented on by a group of mad scientests, but there would certainly be country music in the background.

So we have this party, where my family and I are working the entire time, the live band is playing the chicken dance and country music, and almost all the guests are twice my age or older.

Somehow, this is splendidly fun.

Last year, there was karaoke. Let me tell you, reader-folk, I don't sing. Correction. I love to sing, I do it often, but I do not sing WELL. I can sing in an alto range (or lower; I prefer to sing the guy's part in most duets), but going up to a soprano or anything above that is just...bad.

Somehow, I ended up singing We Are Family, Holiday and Matirial Girl. All those songs are in the higher range. It was a blast.

Also, EVERY YEAR, Pepe invites all these people who I have no clue who they are. Because he thinks that my sister and I walk on water, we are introduced to them. Every year. Even if we met them last year. And the year before that. And the year before that.

Also, I have a great-aunt who is hyper-critical of everyone. Last year, (no lie) she looked at my sister and said "...Skinny legs." I know that I will either be too skinny, or not skinny enough. Oh yes.

One year, another aunt asked me if I had "become a woman yet". Right there, during the party. Took all I had not to crack up laughing.

So, my lovelies, that is why I am writing this blog a day early. So I can fully enjoy the hilarity that is my Pepe's party.

I'm probably off dancing, or eating, or singing karaoke.

~Whimsy

* Pepe means Grandpa. ^_^