Family parties: Fun? Yes. Bone tiring? Also yes.

Once our youngest, Jack, finished high school, I figured Terry and I had thrown our last graduation party.

Then our daughter Chloe got her PhD and we (very happily) hosted a celebration for her with 70+ guests.

That's when I was reminded how much work goes into making one of these little soirees happen.

Most of the burden falls on my hero of a wife, who plans these things, does the cooking, directs set-up and clean-up, and basically makes the whole event fun for everyone involved.

I'm usually working to pay for the whole thing in the days leading up to these parties, but on P-Day, I go hard.

There are chairs and tables to carry outside. Garbage and recyclables to collect and throw away. Party supplies to bring down from above the garage and set up.

And dishes to wash. Lots and lots of dishes to wash.

Since I don't cook, it's mostly my job to ensure every pot, pan, plate, spoon and Tupperware container is washed, dried and put away.

This is fine in the hours leading up to the party as Terry preps the food, because I have energy then.

It's exhausting when the party is over and the sink is overflowing with items that need to be handwashed.

"Just leave them until the next day," you might say.

I can't. I just can't.

I cannot go to bed with dishes sitting in the sink. I'm simply incapable.

The price to be paid for this compulsion is having to scrub sauce-encrusted slow cookers and bowls of sticky, cold noodles when all I want is to take a shower and crawl into bed.

The menu for Chloe's party featured various pastas, sauces and meatballs. Terry had bleached our kitchen sink a sparkly white a few days before, but by the time my late-night handwashing spree was over, that sink was stained tomato red.

That's not to mention all of the garbage we collected and bagged after the guests had left, and the dozens of cans and bottles destined for the recycling truck that had to be rounded up and taken out.

The next day, Terry, Jack and I finished clean-up by bringing in the folding chairs and tables and emptying out the beverage coolers...all in the middle of an unusually hot and humid mid-September afternoon.

We were beat.

The thing is, though, for all the effort we put in before and after, the party itself was so much fun. It was great connecting with family and friends and meeting some of Chloe's grad school buddies.

We built a fire and roasted marshmallows. Our cornhole set got plenty of use. People clearly enjoyed coming together and celebrating my little Dr. Chloe Edmonds.

Speaking of whom, Chloe now plans to attend medical school. Once she graduates, I might suggest we bring everyone together to celebrate at the local Chuck E. Cheese.

Chuck and his animatronic band can do the cooking and cleaning for that party, as far as I'm concerned.

I didn't pose naked for the cover like Britney, and nine other reasons you should buy my book this holiday season

1. You will laugh, either at the content or at the fact I think I'm so funny.
   
   
2. You will cry, either over the content or over the fact I think I'm so funny.
   
   
3. I will agree not to sign the book for you, thus preserving its value.
   
   
4. It has a beautiful cover with which I had almost nothing to do. The best parts of the book admittedly do not involve me.
   
   
5. I make $3.42 per paperback copy sold, which I pledge to use to buy myself apples. This doesn't really benefit you, but as noted here many times before, I like apples.
   
   
6. You can either buy Stephen King's new book or you can buy mine. I was a contestant on two game shows. Stephen's game show count? To my knowledge it's zero. Advantage: me.
   
   
7. It would make my wife Terry happy. Imagine how good you'll feel making her happy.
   
   
8. My book explains in earnest detail why Chuck E. Cheese plays a vital role in preventing a worldwide revolt among young children. You're not going to get that kind of insight from, say, Britney Spears' memoir.
   
   
9. Speaking of Britney, unlike her, I did not pose nearly naked for the cover of my book, which I consider a great favor to you. The least you can do in return is to buy the book.
   
   
10. In buying my book, you're propping up the economy. I don't want to imply that worldwide financial collapse would be your fault if you choose not to buy my book, but I'm also not saying that's not the case. Just to be on the safe side, you should probably just buy the book.

Click here to purchase the book on Amazon, either in paperback or Kindle/eBook format.

(Since this list likely did more to talk you out of buying the book than anything else, thank you for even considering it!)

The necessary evil of Chuck E. Cheese

So Jack got invited to a friend's birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese. You veteran parents know how this works: You go to Target, buy a gift in the toy department, wrap it, take your kid to the House of Cheese and either drop him/her off (if you're smart) or else agree to stay and help supervise (if you're not).

My good friend Lenny Luscher once called Chuck E. Cheese "Babylon for kids," and I think that's pretty accurate. Contained within those four walls is every possible kid form of sin and vice...and, thanks to the addition of beer and wine to the menu, some for the adults, as well.

The rides and games vary by Chuck E. Cheese location, but there are at least three constants no matter which one you visit:

(1) A jumbo-sized Habitrail in which kids crawl around and share germs with others their age

(2) A variety of games that introduce them to gambling by offering tickets for the winners

(3) Noise - lots and lots of noise

That last point is crucial. Do not go to Chuck E. Cheese thinking you'll be in for a relaxing time while your child eats pizza, ingests mass quantities of sugary soda and plays skee-ball. The Cheese Experience is loud, and it's almost always uncomfortably hot. Little kids will constantly run into your knees like tiny Ndamukong Suhs, trying to get from one activity to the other. No matter how well you have trained your children, they will quickly conform to the pattern of obnoxious, rude behavior so favored by the tiny denizens of The Cheese.

And yet, I would argue the world needs Chuck E. Cheese. It wouldn't bother me if I never walked into one again the rest of my life, mind you, but it's my firm belief that there's a certain ying and yang between grown-ups and kids that needs to be maintained.

Think of it from a child's point of view. Ninety-five percent of the time, kids are forced to live, work and play in decidedly adult-oriented environments. Even when they're around other kids, like at school, they do it in a setting created and supported by adults.

Chuck E. Cheese is one of the few places they can go that is entirely theirs. That fake Chuck E. Cheese band up on the stage? They love that! Seriously, they may not admit it, but listening to that animatronic band strike up a bluegrass version of "The Farmer in the Dell" for the 27th time in less than an hour is like scoring front-row seats to Led Zeppelin for them.

The games, the grimy ball pit, the noise...this is paradise for small people. They can do what they want for as long as they want (or at least until the tokens run out) and no annoying grown-up is going to yell at them for being too loud or for having too much fun.

Trust me, this is a good thing. If we as the people in charge were to take away that last 5% of freedom they possess, they would revolt. Mark my words, there would be a full-scale kid revolution if we shut down Chuck E. Cheese and places like it. These kids (who already tend to be fast and agile) would be angry, as well, and pre-adolescent anger is sufficiently powerful to destroy civilization as we know it.

The Chuck E. Cheese people understand this. Which is why they offer booze now. They don't want you getting crazy ideas in your head about how their environment is probably damaging to your child's long-term mental health, so they offer up fairly low-cost Chardonnay and Budweiser to head you off. That nice little buzz you get not only gives you the stamina to endure the chaos, it also keeps you from setting fire to the place.

Trust me, as parents and as a society, we need The Cheese.