I'm sorry...did you say POOPER bowl party?

I am certain now that my husband must have read the invitation incorrectly. It must have said, "Come to our Pooper Bowl Party!" Yes, that must have been our mistake. Because, what we walked into tonight was NO Super Bowl party, my friends. No, that's for certain. So, in honor of a crappy evening, I give you the following:

Top FIVE Ways to Throw a Sucky Super Bowl Party:

1. Give new meaning to crappy food. Save the Jason's Deli sandwich platters and Chick-fil-a nugget trays for the business lunches, will you? We want homemade goodies! Queso by the crockpot full, something sweet, lots of really fattening dips, hot wings, and such. And to THINK I was concerned about blowing my Weight Watchers points for the night? HA! Not with luke warm sandwiches and shrimp that had been sitting out for 4 hours!

2. Tom, is that YOU? Keep every light off in your house, forcing guests to maneuver around with squinted eyes and hands outstretched. You may think this lights-off ploy brings the focus on the game on the t.v., but really we know it is to hide the shitty food you are dishing up.

3. Moonwalking in Mush. Providing a huge moonwalk in your backyard for the kids is delightful and considerate. Soaking your yard down so it is like a swamp beforehand is NOT. Oh, and that cheap and fake-looking reddish stain on your deck? Yeah, um, next time spring for some DECENT stain for the wood. My daughter took half of it home on her NEW white tennis shoes this evening, thank you VERY little!

4. Invite obnoxious guests. Not sure who to invite? Here's a clue. The guy in the ugly Hawaiian shirt whose best joke involves a story about a man defecating on himself should NOT be in the guest list.

5. Invite the snotty wives. Here's the deal, fellows. From me to you, just don't include the wives. Seriously. Or, at the very least, find something else for them to do if they aren't into the game. Because when the boys' club is NOT in front of the t.v., they will be out on the back porch smoking stogies. And we girls are SO not into cigar smoke. So, when the women are done with their pleasant introductions, they will scatter like mice to their dark corners, refusing to be friendly to any of the other women for the rest of the night. Especially not the wife of the new guy...

Other highlights from my night included battling my toddler over the cooler of kids' juice boxes, which of course was left right where she could open it and get to them. (Friends, learn from my pain. If your child has diarrhea, two Juicy Juice boxes can bring new meaning to the nickname "little stinker."

In addition, I got to watch the irritating play rituals of boys, ages six to eight. These involve constantly giving the new kid the bum gameboy controller or the busted laser tag gun, as well as screaming at any girl that comes within 20 feet your person. Oh, the joys of boyhood!

Yes, it was lovely. Oh, and the game? Why I couldn't tell you a thing about it. I'm not a big football fan, but I usually watch enough to know the score, catch the cool commercials, and ridicule the halftime show. But, my daughter prevented that with her juice box obsession and her other favorite pastime of climbing the steep wood stairs over and over again.

The only good thing that happened? Well, the 10,000th and final time she went for the juice boxes and was told no, she went into her high pitched, "I'm-almost-two-damn-it" scream. This caused everyone, including defecating Hawaiian shirt man to turn and glare at me with dagger eyes. And, this sent me to the edge. I chose to walk through the cloud of cigar smoke, with my screaming toddler in tow, and do something I always vowed I would not do. I publicly embarrassed my husband into leaving.

Sometimes, desperate times call for desperate measure, right?