After a hiatus last year from our annual Three Kings Day fiesta (due to the unexpected early arrival of son Kel), the CDR and I were quite excited to host our fourth fiesta in the new digs. It would be our first chance to bring together the many worlds that make up our life in Washington - old friends, new friends, friends-of-friends, neighbors.
We were even more excited when the RSVPs started rolling in. Until we compiled our guest list, we had no idea how many people we actually know in the greater Seattle area. By the day before the party, we were ready to welcome 18 adults and 6 children into our home.
Come party day, guess how many people actually made their way to our home?
Okay, all right, I slightly exaggerate (told you I would). There were 9 adults and 3 kids.
But still. Only 50 percent of our guests who RSVPed to the party actually joined us that day. And that really annoys me.
I'm a mom. I'm a military spouse. I understand that when the going gets tough, sometimes the tough have to stay home and hide. I get it. But here's the thing: Only one family actually called before the party to say they couldn't make it. And their excuse was completely viable. They had their first baby just eight weeks ago, and he was coughing. Call the incident response team and wrap that condo in a bubble until the baby gets better. I hear that.
Another family are actually our next-door neighbors, so the CDR walked over and harassed them significantly. (They like us enough that we felt comfortable doing so.) We brought them leftovers, and the next day, they sent back a delicious homemade quiche. I'm a sucker for food, so... they're forgiven.
But now let me tell you what really, really annoys me.
Four days later, I haven't even heard from the third no-show family. Not a peep. No call, no email. No "I'm so sorry we couldn't make it. Our daughter refused to take a nap and we couldn't bear to make you suffer that wrath." NOTHING.
I'm not a total party dictator. I understand that things happen, especially when there are small children involved. But the least you can do is call me. Email me. Send a fax. I don't care. Just let me know that you won't be here. And apologize for all the food I bought, all the sangria I made, that you couldn't help consume.
Okay, maybe don't go that far. It's not like you knew that SEVEN other adults would flake out, too. But still.
If you RSVP to a party and you can't make it, have the decency to call the host and say that you're sorry, but you can't be there after all. And do it as soon as possible.
Am I crazy to expect this of my guests? Have I fooled myself into seeing a gracious hostess in the mirror when I'm actually the Adolf of the party world? Am I right to be highly annoyed?