I have vivid childhood memories of my parents hosting dinner parties: clinking ice cubes at cocktail hour, mom’s fancy perfume, dad’s laughter, and delicious smells wafting upstairs from the kitchen. Once we were old enough, my sister and I were allowed to come downstairs in our pajamas for a little while to say hello to my parents’ friends, and then we would run back upstairs and pretend that we were adults hosting our own party.
Now that I am, in fact, an adult, I find that dinner parties are few and far between. More often, we have a potluck-style family dinner at the home of someone brave enough to host 10 young children, or see friends at an organized couples’ party run through one of my moms’ groups. These are great occasions, don’t get me wrong, but I do sometimes wonder what happened to the gatherings of my parents’ generation. There is a part of me that associates being an adult with hosting a dinner party, which is something that I haven’t done in quite a while!