New Years Eve

You would think after the events of Christmas I would have this whole party arranging thing down to a fine art. I still haven’t got the smell of burnt turkey out of the kitchen or to mention the wine stain out of the cream carpet in the "good room" but I suppose I have to thank my father for faking a bug which in turn made my mother have to bring him home which then meant I didn’t have to show her that I was merely still the same bad cook as I had always been when living at home.







But here I was promising them a fantastic new years eve party and I got the same old look from mum which translating meant”are you sure your up to it dear.a.k.a capable dear" Ill show them that I can throw the most fantastic, splendid, wild (ok maybe not wild its my parents and a few neighbours after all who wouldn’t know a wild time even if it came alive and bit them all on the butt) party of the decade!..







So I decided to ask for a bit of help in the form of my darling boyfriend who is now sat in front of the TV with a beer and a look of concentration which only appears when stupid men in awful fashion chase each other around after a stupid ball.







After what seemed like a decade of grunts and moans we finally got the place looking respectable for the party troops who would be arriving in less than an hour. Would they want food now or later, what if they came hungry and hadn’t any dinner or came full after having dinner and everything went to waste... decisions...







Doorbell rings and I can feel my blood pressure rising... It will be ok everything will go perfectly... My mother is the first to arrive with what appears to be ten ready meals in a supermarket cool bag. "Just encase" she pats the bag "ill just bring these through to your freezer" Great I’m a lost cause and its only seven o clock.







"Oh you have the food on already I see"



"Yeah I just thought..."



"Oh well I’m sure the dog can eat the left over"







Great... its good enough for the dog at least... the door bell rings and I shout for my boyfriend to get it... the door bell rings again...







"Mark why the hell are you not answering the door"



" I need to go to the bathroom"







Just great I say muttering under my breath I open the door everyone starts arriving at once.



"Go through ill just get you all some drinks"







Everything seems to be going ok.., the conversations flowing as well as the alcohol which I have to say has been my saviour of the night.. Everything always seems a lot better after three bottles of wine... Oh the lasagne... I go towards the kitchen and Mark is blocking the door.







"Can I speak to you a minute"



"Can it wait its just I don’t want these burning"







I rush into the kitchen and go to check on the oven...but I hadn’t even turned it on... I begin to quickly read the back of the packaging ... whoever invented the microwave I Salute you!







I start dinging the food.







"Oh micro waving I see" came my mothers voice from behind me



"Yes still tastes the same"



"If you say so dear" and of she goes taking the first batch of sausages with her.







Microwave food and more drinks later I can’t believe it was near 11 o’clock.







"Can I speak to you now" mark asks but im far too busy playing the perfect host.



"Need to top everyone up ill be right back"







I walk into the kitchen to grab another two bottles of wine and it dawned on me I hadn’t bought any champagne to toast the new year after everything going so well.







News year’s resolution - no more parties they’re a recipe for a heart attack and a sure sign of premature aging.







Mark follows me into the kitchen







"I didn’t get any champagne, I need to run out"



"no where’s open can I talk to you"



" not now I need to get champagne"



"everyone’s drunk as a skunk they wont tell the difference"







I ignore this and hurry to my mother







"I have no champagne"







A smile creeps on her face - a very told you so look.



“I have two bottles in the car just encase"







I don't take this as an insult as Im desperate but I have to give it to mum she’s always organised I take it after my dad by far.







So the celebration champagne glasses are out everyone’s topped up waiting to celebrate the New Year I can’t wait anymore for the bubbly fizz so I knock it back and replace with a great big glass of red wine.







"Can I talk to you now" asks mark







10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1 - HAPPY NEW YEAR!







"Will you marry me"







I drop the glass of wine and the ruby red stain matches the other one on the carpet and it now looks like I have two big eyes on my carpet. Then the shock leaves and all the worry, sausages, stains and champagne doesn’t seem so important anymore and I realise what is.