Not everything about the weekend was lovely and perfect. The Boyfriend did something really stupid that made me angry, but not nearly as angry as I was at a mutual friend of ours. And honestly, it’s getting to the point where I can tolerate this person less and less every time we’re in the same place.
Someone asked me about Toys for Tots. I told them that we weren’t having it this year; that The Boyfriend had wanted to host it somewhere else but that we’d figured out that our schedules didn’t mesh and it wasn’t going to happen. One of the girls sitting at our table said, “I just heard him asking that tall guy if he could do it at his house,” pointing to one of the guys in The Boyfriend’s band.
Did it surprise me that The Boyfriend asked? No. But I turned to the guy he asked and said, “Toys for Tots isn’t happening this year. It’s not a location issue. It’s a scheduling issue.”
I was met with a cold stare. “Whatever,” he said. “It’s [The Boyfriend's] party, though.”
Instinctively, my claws came out. “[The Boyfriend] didn’t do a fucking thing to prepare for the party last year. He was too busy working on promoting the two gigs you had lined up.”
For the record, The Boyfriend came up with this concept back in 2000. It’s a great concept. He invited everyone he knew to stop over throughout the day and have chili, bring a toy to donate to Toys for Tots, and sing and/or play some music and hang out. He even records the singing.
The following year was my first time attending. I brought brownies. They were a hit with the women he worked with who came. The next year, I did the brownies again and I think I also brought my queso dip, which also was a success with those who showed up.
In 2003, I bought my house and the decision was made to move the party there. The Boyfriend was living at his parents’ house then, and the party was outgrowing his living space. I decorated the house for Christmas and made appetizers. He made chili and we utilized all three floors of my house. It was a great time and the amount of toys we collected that year surpassed all previous years. I heard numerous compliments (mostly from our female friends) about “the spread” we’d provided.
The next year, I’d changed jobs and I started inviting people I knew from work, increasing our attendance even more. Since the party starts late afternoon, people bring their kids earlier in the day, when the crazy partying hasn’t really started yet. That’s The Boyfriend’s forte. He’ll sit on the floor and hang out with the kids. Last year, he spent considerable time helping one boy play the guitar.
I’m not taking anything away from The Boyfriend’s concept. It’s all his. It was a fantastic idea and the fact that he thought of it demonstrates one of the many reasons I love him. The man has a heart of gold.
But the ambiance? That’s all mine, baby. There is no way we’d have the same size crowd showing up without it. And for D to look me in the eye and completely dismiss any contribution I’ve made? He can kiss my ass.
It is not The Boyfriend’s party. It is our party. Had it not been for me last year, there would have been no party. I made up my mind that I wouldn’t do it all again this year, but I was certainly willing to work with The Boyfriend on it for the 15th. He has to work. I’m working the other two weekends. Like I said, it’s a scheduling issue. Shit happens.
The thing is, in The Boyfriend’s head, it’s not even about the party. It’s about the donations. It bothers him that we won’t be collecting those toys to donate. There’s an easy way to solve this: tell everyone to donate anyway, and next year… we’ll back, bigger and better than ever.
I wish it were that simple, but I have a feeling this isn’t over yet…