A Letter To Parents Who 'Forget' To RSVP To Birthday Parties
It’s a simple yes or no. You don’t need to go to the post office, find a stamp, or even pick up a pen. Hell, you don’t even need to get out of bed! It’s just a click away—10 seconds of your life. I know you saw it; my “manage guests” section is telling me you viewed the invitation yesterday at 10:16 a.m. Your son also told my daughter at recess days ago that he’s coming to the party, so what’s the problem, commitment phobia? You’re not sure if you can make it? No problem, click “Decide Later.” That’s the beauty of technology.
RSVPing to an evite is easier than putting pants on in the morning! And trust me, the number of parents walking around in pajama bottoms with ceramic coffee mugs in hand at school drop-off is staggering. I get it. Adulting is hard.
Lost in your inbox? Don’t worry—I sent not only one but two automated reminders. That gives you three chances to respond, but I guess you think the RSVP isn’t important. Neither, apparently, is whether I know how much pizza to order, how big of a cake to bring, how many goodie bags we need, or what sort of head count to give the venue. All this stuff is super cheap—I’ll just supply enough for the entire class plus siblings and sit back and wait to see who shows up. Not.
Lo and behold, it’s party day and you decide this is the perfect opportunity to unload both of your kids for an hour and a half on a Sunday even though only one was invited. You aren’t fazed by the fact that it is a pool party for 8-year-olds and Johnny’s 4-year-old brother can’t swim. You simply ask at the front desk if the party host qualifies as a guardian and throw a life jacket on that sucker. Adios! It must be nice to be so laissez faire. That’s French for asshole. Think I’m uptight? I get a little overwhelmed when I get bullied into playing babysitter and lifeguard at my daughter’s birthday. You know, I had one kid for a reason. I like things simple.
Well, don’t worry. I didn’t let your son drown while you were getting your caffeine fix. You said you were tired. Take a number daddy—we all are. Do you get a pass because you’re a dad? Were you playing dumb? Did you really not understand what you were doing? Did your wife tell you to drop both kids? It doesn’t matter. It’s common courtesy to RSVP, and it’s common sense that the person invited is the only person who should show up. You weren’t alone. Two of the moms dropped off siblings too, though at least they knew how to swim.
So when did it become OK to dump your entire family at a party that only one kid is invited to? I grew up with three siblings. We never attended parties together, and nobody was allowed to cry about it. Is this about fairness? If it is, do us all a favor and just stay home. Or, tell baby Sienna to put on her big girl panties when older sister Lucy comes back from a bouncy house party with Playdough and a lollipop. Whatever you tell her, it’s not my problem.
Maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on you. You did bring a gift to a no-gift party. A 2,000-piece puzzle of kittens. I can’t fucking wait to put that thing together when we get home! Just what I need to calm my nerves after a day at the pool with 27 kids.
I don’t expect a thank-you, but mine for the puzzle from hell will be in the mail. I hope you enjoyed your Starbucks, motherfucker!
A pissed off mommy