For six years, I have wanted to have a party at our house.
Not a political event.
Not a fundraiser.
Not a meet and greet for one of Primo's candidates.
A party. The kind where you invite people you like to your house and give them food and drink.
For six years, Primo has been putting that off.
We have had three political events at our house in that time.
Political events that I have done the prep work for. Political events for people I DO NOT EVEN LIKE.
I wanted a party.
So he finally agreed.
(Related: There are two cases of souvenir brewery tour glasses that Primo has collected over the past ten years in our basement. When we moved into the house, I suggested that we might give the glasses to Goodwill so that poor people who cannot afford the brewery tour might have brewery glassware in their homes, but Primo always said that no, those glasses were for when we had a party. Which he never wanted to have.)
He finally agreed.
We argued over the guest list. I wanted to invite everyone I know and like. Primo said there would not be room in our house. I said not everyone we invite will come.
We argued over the evite because - prepare yourself - Primo wanted to micromanage.
We finally sent the invitation.
And then Sly announced he was having knee surgery.
And he announced that Primo would be taking care of him.
Primo would not be getting back to our house until the Thursday before the party. We delayed the party a week, which meant calling and emailing people to make sure they knew.
Then Primo ended up staying a week longer than planned at Sly and Doris' because - oh heck you know why - because Sly and Doris think the laws of physics do not apply to them and that Sly would be completely healed after just a few days so why on earth would they need help after a week?
Primo would be happy with leaving Sly to his own devices, but he feels bad for his mother, so is always trying to save her. (I said I didn't think Primo could save her. He said, "She can't save herself. What am I supposed to do?")
So he stayed an extra week only it became more involved than that - it was almost as expensive to change his ticket as it was to buy a new one so he came home for 48 hours so we could go to the Barry Manilow concert together and so he could attend a protest at the state capital.
Only after he made his new arrangements, the concert was moved and Primo missed it.
(Reason #561 to hate Sly: He made Primo miss attending an event with me that we had been anticipating for four months.)
Primo went to Sly and Doris' for an extra week. I kept asking him if he wanted to cancel the party because every time I spoke to him, he was completely exhausted. But he kept putting on a brave face and saying no, no, no. It was too late.
He got home on Thursday. The party was supposed to be on Saturday.
We had a big fight.
(Are we the only ones who fight? Do you guys fight with your spouses? We almost always have a fight when he comes back from visiting Sly and Doris. I no longer even take it personally - I am quite detached and think, "Well, this should be winding down in a little while." It's almost like watching a little kid blow off steam only this is a grown man blowing off steam by arguing about cheese and laundry detergent while I roll my eyes and say, "You realize you are being a lot like your dad, right?" which is Primo's kryptonite because the last thing he wants is to be like Sly. I try not to use that one very often because it is kind of mean, but sometimes, he falls into the patterns he learned as a kid.)
We had a big fight. I asked if he wanted to cancel the party.
No, no, no.
"Because this is about as late as we can cancel," I warned.
No, no, no.
On Friday, I got home from work and we argued again.
I asked if he wanted to cancel.
No! He did not want the burden of being the one to cancel.
"I promise I will not hold it against you," I said. "I will hold it against your mom and dad because you have been such an unbearable crank since you got home, but I won't hold it against you. I know how exhausting it is to take care of someone who is sick. I was so tired when my dad was sick and my dad was nice! And I didn't have to take care of a drunk mother! I had about the ideal caregiver circumstances and I was still wiped out. You have a miserable situation. It's OK for us to cancel. But you have to decide."
"I don't want to disappoint you!" he said. "You've wanted to have a party for so long and you have been so excited and happy about this. I can't bear to take this away from you. Besides, people will think I am an idiot for cancelling this late."
"I don't care," I said. "I am tired of the crankiness. I would cancel the party just to have it be quiet around here. And anyone with parents will understand."
So I cancelled.
And everyone completely understood. They sent super nice notes saying yeah, it is really hard to deal with aging, sick parents and they hoped Primo would rest and recuperate and that they would see us soon.
Doris asked Primo how the party was.
He told her we had cancelled it.
"Did GD throw a hissy fit?" she asked.
OK, she might not have used those exact words, but that was the sense of her question.
No, Primo told her. It was GD's idea.
Well didn't that hush Doris' mouf.