Lisa Thornbury: Party Mummy


A Major Party "Don't"

Awkard Party At My Pad

This story may fall under the TMI category, so if you’re offended by feminine hygiene, this post is not for you. I love a good party; in particular, the planning and excitement preceding it. I know what to “do” to ensure a successful event, but I will happily share a whopper of a “don’t” when I come across one.

Here’s a doozy:

A few years ago, I attended a quaint dinner party hosted by a friend (who shall remain anonymous or I'll be strung up by my high heels).

Her house was immaculate. I know for a fact she cleans like a whirling dervish the day of. She actually gets on her hands and knees and scrubs her bathroom floors. This, not gonna lie, does NOT happen at my house. The morning of the party, when polishing her main floor powder room she felt the need to give herself a bit of a freshening-up as well. She removed her sanitary pad (yes, sometimes ladies of our age due to swells in the tide, so to speak, have to resort to riding the cotton pony upon occasion). She carefully rolled it up, sticking it temporarily to top of the toilet tank. Obviously it couldn’t go in the bathroom trash can.

Hands washed, out the door and onto more preparations, off went the happy hostess. You see where this is going, right?

A few hours later, guests were greeted with a cocktail and we oohed and ahhed over my girlfriend’s stunning home. After a while, one of the male guests went to use the bathroom. Shortly after, a second (male) guest used the loo as well.

We made our way into the dining room and sat down to a gorgeous meal and delicious wine. Over the second course, the hostess excused herself to visit the lavatory. When she returned, she was looking a little peaked.

After dinner she took the girls aside to share her tale of humiliation. As you may have guessed, she had forgotten the pad on the back of the toilet. At some point, it had unfurled from its rolled-up state and was lying open faced, on full display.

Neither male guest had said a word. Maybe they didn’t notice? Or perhaps they were too frightened to mention it. And obviously neither was brave enough to play the role of “Cleaner” to dispose of the evidence. And by cleaner I’m not talking Molly Maid, I’m mean like Harvey Keitel in Pulp Fiction.

So what have we learned from this epic party “Don’t?”

 My male friends have the bladders of 83-year-olds.

 Men, no matter what age, are frightened by menses. Am I the only one to see the irony here?

 About ten minutes before guests arrive, do one final sweep to ensure all is in its proper place.

 How does a seasoned hostess handle a sticky situation? She remains calm, smiles and pours herself one of these...

The “Relax, Stay Calm & Pour Yourself A Sun-Dried Tomato Bloody Mary”

3 oz. tomato juice 
3 oz. V-8 juice 
1 1/2 oz. vodka infused with sun-dried tomatoes (*see below)
Pinch black pepper 
Pinch celery salt 
Dash grated horseradish, Lea & Perrins or soy sauce (optional)
Dash fresh lemon juice 
Dash Tabasco sauce

Put all ingredients into a large, chilled glass, add lots of ice and stir. Garnish with a lemon and lime wedge and a celery stick.

*To infuse vodka, pour 4 oz. of vodka into a glass container, add four sun-dried tomatoes, cover with tight fitting top, and let stand for at least two days. When ready to use, strain and discard tomatoes. If you age this infusion longer, after a week replace old tomatoes with fresh ones.

For a more "Don'ts" (including DON'T publish photos of your exposed muffin top on your blog for a laugh...) click here.