4. Clean up pizza boxes from the porch table while the girls run screaming through the yard, frightening the dog and upsetting the neighbors, the latter of which you find uninteresting given a recent incident involving police and beer cans and the fact that one mom from school cruises all the block parties with an empty Redskins cup, looking for a fill. Take basil syrup off the stove to cool. Set the cake platter among the 10 pink cell phones.
5. Clean up ice cream. Wipe cake frosting off the floor. Send the teenage guests to the basement to watch “16 Candles.” As you deliver pillows to their lair, tell them you share a birthday with Molly Ringwald. After the girls stare incredulously at your face, perhaps in search of Moses, feel a bit deflated, and go upstairs and start mixing up your drink. If possible, do so in a jar as cjzern suggests. Find the mixture too sweet, add more ice, and a generous squeeze of lime.
6. Get everyone extra blankets. Take call from a mother who informs you with no shortage of irritation that she had no idea about this party and will be retrieving her daughter for church at 8 am. The ice has melted in your drink now, reducing the sweetness. You can taste the ginger now. Add a dash more lime and fresh cubes. Take a large sip, sigh heavily and repair to your Twitter feed. Read about something called brackets. Go to bed.
PS: I made this the next day with gin, and only a teaspoon of the basil syrup and no lime. Divine, a much more round and herbal drink than the vodka version IMHO. This version is going to be my summer drink, when my basil comes in and Congress goes home.