Super Bowl Festivities

Somehow, I got talked into hosting a Super Bowl party. For Boyfriend's friends. At my house. No, I am not sure how this happened, either, but it did, so I spent the whole weekend prepping for said party. The apartment was cleaned from top to bottom, the bathroom got a heavy duty (down to the floor boards and grout) cleaning, and I bought a cart full of food at Costco to feed everyone.

Now I remember why I do not have parties at my house.

I spend so much time worrying about getting the apartment and the food and everything else ready, not to mention that I am not a big party person to begin with, that I never really enjoy myself. For a little bit of perspective, there are maybe 6-8 people and 3-4 households total that do not result in me having at least a minor freak out from either having them come over or going to their house. Don't get me wrong, I liked everyone that came to the party, they were just all there at once. In my house. Ack!

Then there was Caleb to deal with. I've never had 9 people in my apartment at once, and I've certainly never had 9 people with plates of deliciousness scattered about everywhere AND Caleb in an apartment together. I was getting pretty worked up over what to do with him when I remembered something from The Other End of the Leash by Patricia McConnell (side note: I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE her!). She says something to the effect of: trainers do not necessarily have perfect dogs, they just know when to put their dogs away and avoid any potential problems to begin with. So I decided that after Caleb said hello to everyone, he would be banished to my bedroom with a nice bully stick. Since I fail miserably at hiding anything from Caleb, I decided he would be better off there than picking up on all my 'OHMYGOSH THERE ARE PEOPLE IN MY HOUSE vibes', which would just be asking for trouble.

But then my Mom called wondering if Caleb might like to come over to her house for the super bowl. I guess my Brother was missing his dog, Scout, and they decided a visit from Caleb would help. BRILLIANT! I wish I had thought of this, rather than stressing out about what to do with Caleb for a week prior. So, my Brother came over and picked up Caleb, his dinner, and his favorite obnoxious green squeaky tennis ball, and off they went to enjoy each other's company in a nice big house with a backyard and no party goers!

I was feeling pretty good as everyone showed up, grabbed a plate of food and staked out a spot to watch the game...

Then the sneezing started.

In all of my hysterics to clean the apartment and prepare enough food for a small country, I forgot something vitally important: To make sure everyone knew I had a dog AND a cat in the apartment. In my (weak) defense, everyone I knew was already aware that I had a dog and a cat, it was the family members that they brought with them who were apparently allergic, and nobody bothered to mention it to THEM that there was a cat and a dog in the apartment.

Epic. Fail.

So lesson learned: Spend less time cleaning the grout in the bathroom that absolutely nobody is going to notice, and MORE time emailing, calling, and reminding everyone to take their allergy meds because apparently there are enough allergens in my apartment to knock a 15 year old to his knees (Even WITH my obsessive cleaning! I had no idea!). Or maybe the better lesson is: Have a party for Boyfriend's friends at Boyfriend's house! Sheesh.

In other news, Caleb had a wonderful time at my Mom's house, and even took her for a jog around the block. Unintentionally, I might add. My Mom was very excited to have a dog to go on a walk with her, but I do not think she was prepared for what an adolescent Corgi considers a walk, and was still in old Boxer/Mastiff mode (A much slower and more meandering pace). I guess there were very interesting smells in my Mother's neighborhood, and he dragged her hither and yon to each and every one of them, even yanking the leash clear out of her hands and one point. Apparently my poor Mother was half jogging behind him the entire way scolding: "I am not your Momma, I can't jog like she can! I have a titanium knee, I'm old! Slooooooow down, Caleb!" On the one hand, I find this hilarious and would have paid to see it. On the other hand, I am mortified because that is not Canine Good Citizen behavior! Granted, it sounds like my mother used every word except 'Heel', but somehow I do not think saying 'Heel' would have helped. Caleb knows exactly what he can get away with when he's with me (not very much) versus what he can get away with with my Mom (everything). Typical corgi. So that will be something I have to work on with both of them, I guess.