OK., all you little monsters from Lynnwood High School, Class of 1995: It’s party time.

But this time, people, it’s not at my house.

It’s at some place called The Big Picture, in Belltown. That’s in Seattle. Far, far away.

Columnists make mistakes and I made a doozy in 1996.

I wrote that my husband and I were going out of town for a dart tournament. Har, har, I mentioned that while I was gone, my children were probably going to have an ice cream social at my house.

I thought that ice cream social line was pretty cute.

Our middle son, Brody, had mentioned he might bring some dorm friends up to the house from Seattle University. Our oldest, Ron was holding down our Mill Creek fort.

Some of the Lynnwood High’s Class of 1995 saw the column.

Word spread like SPF 30 on a hot beach.

Not only did most of the freshman class from Seattle University show up, Brody’s buds from high school thought it would be a great time to reconnect.

For a hint at how the evening went, the keg was drained by 10 p.m.

Yes, there was a keg at my house. With underage drinkers. I was told they used designated drivers or spent the night. They had the foresight to move my living room furniture outside. That was how 132 teenagers crammed in. The mosh pit was directly in front of my fireplace.

Ron, who is 7 years older than his brother, really doesn’t like to dance.

“During the party, I walked downstairs and felt the living room floor going up and down with Ron in the middle, giving me the what’s-up sign,” Brody said. “I knew then it was a good party.”

Now and then, Ron, looking ever so wistful, mentions the abundance of coeds. In the grand tradition of keggers, there was one fight and one cut eye.

As friends from Seattle University began arriving, Tim, a Lynnwood grad, showed up and mentioned that others who read the column were on their way.

Another grad, Scott, sang karaoke. And classmate Tyler held people upside down so folks could drink from under the spout in something called a “keg stand.”

To prepare our neighbors, my diplomatic Brody had gone door to door before the party to tell them there might be a little gathering that night. They put up with the racket and cars, probably glad the commotion wasn’t at their place.

The evening was not perfect for Brody and his date, but it worked out later. Brody invited Lisa to the infamous evening.

She will marry him Sept. 10.

When Brody hit the SU campus, he dated Sara. Back then I wrote: “With Sara’s folks arriving from California for Parent Weekend, we thought it was time to mingle with Potential In-Laws. Let’s call them ‘PILs’ for short. The week before, phone calls flew back and forth to the dorm. What should we wear? What do you think they’ll wear? Where should we go? It sounded like a prom date.”

When Sara and Brody hit the skids, he decided to gamble and asked out the prettiest girl on campus, Lisa. Here is the most wonderful part: Lisa’s mother, the talented Sharon from Idaho, who fashions award-winning teddy bears, made her daughter a special bear to take to college.

For no reason, Lisa named her bear “Brody.” When my Brody asked her out, she decided it must be fate.

At the party at my house, someone passed out in my son’s old bedroom. He aimed to take Lisa in there, probably to show her his football card collection or something, but the door was locked.

“All the other rooms were filled, just like in the movies, so I made one last attempt at my room,” Brody said. “After pounding to no avail, I slammed on the outside window only to break one of the panes.”

I understand the next day’s eight-hour clean up was a desperate attempt to put my household back in order. They speak in hushed tones about the garbage, empty bottles and cans, broken glass and glitter on the dance floor.

It’s been more than nine years since the Mill Creek kegger. Beware, The Big Picture, the Class of 1995 is on its way.

And I’ll be at home. With the doors locked.

Columnist Kristi O’Harran: 425-339-3451 or oharran@heraldnet.com.