I was looking through some old pictures and having flashbacks to my childhood birthday parties. My mother typically started her cleaning spree two days early and that usually meant several hours of cleaning for myself as well-I remember one year I was scrubbing the bottom of the door frame with vinegar the day of my birthday about an hour before guests were due to arrive. By the time the parties started I was usually tired and smelled like whatever cleaning fluid was on my pruny hands.
At one point (I was about twelve or so) my mother made the casual inquiry like "Well, what kind of party do you want this year?" Going off of past precedent, I said that I didn't really want one. When she asked why, I said that I just didn't like all the cleaning I had to do for them and she flew off the handle into a Hulk-like rage. We're talking red face, tears, the whole shebang. She called me ungrateful/lazy/rude because I didn't want to get my hands a little dirty to clean the house. I replied that I had no problem with cleaning up but I thought that doing things like scrubbing the door frames and cleaning the edges of the windowsills with toothbrushes was excessive for the five or so friends + the handful of relatives that would show up. She kept repeating "That's just what you do" and said that I wouldn't have a party without a house that was spotless the way she defined it.
Again, I repeated that I was perfectly fine without a party. That wasn't an option though, because "The party's not about you, it's for your relatives and friends to get to see you".
I'd like to say that I remembered how this argument turned out, but I don't. I probably caved though, as she was really good at guilt-tripping us. She always went on about the time and effort she spent making our cakes and decorating the house and that us not wanting to do the work beforehand=ungrateful/lazy/rude. While she absolutely did put in a lot of time and effort, I always did as well and I got to where I wasn't a fan of my birthday because of it.