My parents often had parties when I was a young girl. Although we weren't invited guests, the house seemed festive and always smelled delicious, as my mother was (and still remains) an excellent and creative cook. Occasionally we'd sneak, or even be given permission to sample the buffet before bedtime. I remember having to go to sleep early, but sneaking to the doorway of my bedroom to hear the chatter and periodic bursts of loud laughter. Our apartment had a long hallway that eventually led to an open study, which continued into the living room, and then the dining room. I grew bold as the talk and laughter got louder, and sometimes managed to creep all the way to the door of the living room. If I was lucky, Dave F. or Ray M. would spot me, and flash me a wink or a grin. If I was unlucky, one of my parents would see me, but with a grin herald me back to bed. The biggest thrill was be spotted and then race back into bed. As I got older and my brothers joined me in my party crashing ways, it became a challenge to be spotted, but back under our covers before our presence was noted. We'd then lie in bed with our hearts smashing against our chests, giggling and waiting for our blood to stop pumping furiously before we tried it, again. Walt and Dan and I would try to guess which of my parents' friends was the storyteller or person who laughed the loudest. We were usually pretty accurate in our guesses, because we knew my parents' circle of close friends very well. My parents grew up together, and from first grade on, were classmates and part of a circle of friends who are still close many decades later.
I am still hiding in a room, an uninvited guest, but I am now 40+ years older, and it is my children who are making the party.
And I am sneaking out to hear my son play guitar, and my daughters chatting with their guests, and I'm wondering who just told the joke that caused everyone to laugh loudly.
