The Entertaining Secret I Learned From My Kids
An unexpectedly delightful bonus of parenting is learning new things from my kids.
Every now and again, Sadie (17) or Teddy (12) will surprise and impress me with an insightful comment or elegant solution to a problem – and last Sunday, as I watched them hanging out with friends at our house, I had a major a-ha moment…
They had each invited a friend over and were having a great time: Teddy and his buddy competing on computer games while gobbling Goldfish and stale corn chips; Sadie and her friend nonstop chatting while wielding their phones like magical wands.
Their hangouts were impromptu, arranged that morning, and I realized as I spied on them surreptitiously, that their version of “entertaining” is something I want to do more of.
Because, while I love hanging out with friends at home, I’m always coming up with reasons why I can’t.
Reasons like: “I don’t have enough time” – “The house is a mess” – “Cooking dinner is so much work” – “Everyone’s too busy, it’s so hard to find a date.”
Even if I do happen to have plenty of time and a neat house, there are fears and insecurities lurking in the back of my mind, like “What if I invite people over and they all say no?” - “Our house is not fancy or nice enough compared to everyone else’s” – “What if everyone has a bad time and I regret the whole thing?”
When I was younger, I was just like my kids: simply happy to be with friends with no advance notice, fancy, neat house, or elaborate meal required.
In our twenties, we hung out in sweatpants or pajamas and piled into the car to swing through a fast-food drive-through when we got hungry, followed by Blockbuster to grab videos to take home. We threw parties galore, with ridiculous themes like “dress like an 80-year-old” and engaged in contests, like “who can eat the most dessert with no hands…”
But when I started thinking of myself as an adult – after buying an apartment, getting married, and becoming a parent - “entertaining” became something that gradually felt more competitive, like a marker of social progress and accomplishment. Whether because of aspirational images on social media, being overly impressed by (and envious of) other people’s beautifully appointed homes, or my sense that there’s a proper, grown-up way of doing things, somewhere along the way I came to believe that every gathering must be beautifully planned.
Which leads directly to increased work and decreased spontaneous fun.
Deep down, I know my fears and excuses are unfounded: the most memorable parties I’ve attended were not in the fanciest places; I certainly don’t inspect other people’s homes for cleanliness (and in fact, love it when the hosts are relaxed and not standing on ceremony); I feel honored when I’m invited to someone else’s house, and hate declining if I can’t make it.
If I entertained more like my kids do, there would be no preparation, no planning, no angst, no apologizing for the recycling boxes piled on the porch…just stress-free time in the company of people I want to be with.
Because, while I love a gourmet meal or fancy cocktail party (especially when I am a guest!), those are for special occasions, not every weekend.
So, inspired by my kids, my new entertaining “rules” are as follows:
If the mood strikes, just invite people over. Don’t overthink it! Assume they will be happy to be invited, just like I would be.
If the state of my house is presenting itself as an impediment, do something outdoors: remember Covid, when we got together outdoors in every type of weather.
Spend no more than 30 minutes tidying up – focus on the powder room and kitchen!
Plan NOT to make a full meal - drinks and snacks are fine, as is take-out pizza, or a potluck.
Real plates and glassware are optional. Ditto fresh flowers.
Most of all: don’t try to impress anyone! The goal is to have fun and be together.