I recently read on the Centers for Disease Control Web site that folks are throwing "swine flu parties." Yup, you heard right, swine flu parties. Evidently there are people out there who believe that the only way to combat the illness in its more potent future iterations is to build immunities to the mild virus currently circulating. So folks throw parties, invite their infected friends and expose themselves to the virus. The Dark Ages meets modern day exhibitionism!

I have never been to one of these shindigs, but I imagine that swine flu may be the least of your worries. Besides, how exactly do you expose yourself? What do you do to catch the virus? Have the guest of honor lick all the silverware before dinner? Serve the meals out of giant calabashes and mandate double dipping? Disconnect the water and hide the soap?

Is it just me or does this sound c-r-a-z-y? The real loser here is the person with the swine flu. Imagine if you had been waiting all year long to get invited to one those clandestine office parties, then you get sick and find an invitation under your door. That would be wrong. Being the guest of honor at a swine flu party must be like winning the root canal lottery.

Just last week, my wife and I were sneezing our eyeballs out and coughing up stuff from our childhood. This was the first time in a long time that we broke the good-parent-code, mandating that only one parent be sick at any given time. But at 12 years old, our daughter was ready to do a little caretaking and we were ready to receive it.

We were pathetic. We lounged on different sofas, had our own tissue boxes and water bottles; we even claimed different bathrooms. Trust me, partying was the last thing on our minds.

Through it all, our daughter somehow managed to stay well despite bringing us our meds, refilling our water bottles and washing the dishes. She actually maintained the house, while we wallowed in self-pity and vied for her attention. (OK, Mom didn't wallow, but I sure did.) We compared bloodshot eyes, the number of snotty tissues used and sweat-soaked T-shirts and asked our daughter to judge who was the sicker of the two. She chose Mom, but I am sure that deep inside she realized we were both pretty sick, if you know what I mean. I told you we were pathetic!

In a weird sort of way, I guess we did have our own little party: a pity party. Thankfully, neither my wife nor I contracted the dreaded H1N1 virus. I wasn't cruising the CDC site for giggles and grins; I was double-checking the symptoms list. And outside of our daughter, who I am sure had absolutely no fun, there were no actual party guests.

Here's my advice: If you get sick, stay home and keep your germs to yourself. If you are invited to a swine party and there's no pig, I bet you are the guest of honor. Once you get well, I suggest you get some new friends.

Michael C. DeMattos is on faculty at the University of Hawai'i Myron B. Thompson School of Social Work. Born and raised on the Wai'anae Coast, he now lives in Kane'ohe with his wife, daughter, two dogs, two mice and 1,000 worms.