The problem with parties is not so much that, for the first time in several months, you must find, then extricate, the red bowl from the back of the corner cupboard in the laundry;
the problem is not that said red bowl reminds you of all that you no longer are and becomes the straw that breaks the camel’s back which becomes a flood of two pm tears;
indeed, as the night goes on and your glass is not only half-full, but re-fullable, this reminder becomes one of the joys of parties;
and the problem is not even that the red bowl must be washed after sitting overnight with a particularly sticky dip stuck to it.
No.
The problem with parties is, that once found, extricated, cried over, used, laughed over, washed and dried, the red bowl must be put away. In the back of the corner cupboard in the laundry.
