Thus my random musings on what New Year's Eve entailed.
One rather tired LCM.
Eleven children, aged 2 to 7.
Eight adults, ages unknown. Well, let's just say that they were acting their ages but the men became more 'senior statesmen-like' the more they drank, reminiscing about past times, old memories, and sitting generally further and further slumped in the chairs and couches as the word-slurring began in earnest. We have no idea what they were talking about past 11.30pm.
The women were all driving. And did all the food (one dish each).
Result: a very lovely evening despite the tiredness (cue LCM looking at her watching and getting excited that it was 11.45 and - yes! - she could justify going to bed soon after, foolishly forgetting the time and effort it takes to round up the troops and get them out the door again, approx. 1 hour).
As for the kids, one word, 5 syllables: pan-de-mo-ni-um. The notion (courtesy our brave hostess, Lady P) that we would 'settle them' before we had dinner ourselves, well, never came to fruition. So we barricaded ourselves in the living room (first) and the dining room (after) and just left them to get on with it.
And conveniently we then even managed to forget the kids were in the house, the occasional 'bang, thump' jogging our memories.
We all got to bed around 3am.
So, New Year's resolution: ear plugs, lessons in lip-reading, and chauffeur for special occasions.
That way I can at least be sure we all get back home safely, I can share a drink with Other Half, ignore hyper-hysterical small people (preferably wearing a bemused grin) and avoid accusations of going deaf in my old(er) age.
Of course, I blame the children.