This week, I attended a wake. It was the eighth time I attended this particular wake. My friend Ellen holds it on the last day of school. We gather at 1:00 on her patio. Some of us wear funeral black. We mourn the end of school and the beginning of dog days spent in the company of our darling angels. Yes, we are bad moms. But we are bad moms together. Our bad-momishness is enough of a thread to tie us together for an afternoon of grapefruit gimlets. 

That's how the best parties happen. You take a common thread and transform it into a luscious party bow that wraps around a bunch of people and ta-da!