Hosts Kelly and Steve opened their gorgeous house, fed us and provided me Bud LIght Lime. So I welcome their sweaters.

The Ugly Sweater (and shirt) Party went off without a blush yesterday.

Our friends Kelly and Steve welcomed many cheery people wearing bad-looking holiday clothing to their splendid house in Liverpool.

The house was decorated beautifully, inside and out, a beacon of holiday cheer in this large suburb of Syracuse.

This is a family that puts up three Christmas trees for the season. The first you saw when you walked in the front door. Nice.

My dear wife Karen, right, and our great friend Michelle.

The second was set up in the big living space where they chose to start the party. Very nice.

Kelly and Steve had put together their guest list to include family and friends. Of course. But the cool thing was, they invited their friends, and their offspring invited their friends, too.

That gave the day a special measure of holiday spirit, I thought.

Folks of several generations got along quite well, thank you. The hosts certainly helped the mood along with a buffet of food that was tasty and quite endless, as well as any sort of beverage that you could put in your belly to make sugar plums dance in your head.

One of the young ladies brought along her 19-month-old, Oliver. He was quite the good boy, and nobody minded when the big day got the best of his little stomach and … well, yeah, the leather couch in the basement appeared to clean up quite nicely.

Jack, 14, was ready with his sweater.

In addition to the holidays, we all celebrated Keeley’s 23rd birthday.

Kelly’s niece and her boyfriend. Yes, bad ties were welcome.

The third tree was in the basement. And that’s where the party really unfolded.

There was a 52-inch flat screen, where the SEC championship football game between Missouri and Auburn played out for those who wanted to watch two teams score 20 or so touchdowns between them. There was an itty flat screen above a huge bar, so anybody who chose to belly up could see the game, too. The sound of sports was turned off, though.

That allowed the stereo system to provide us with non-ending, non-repeating holiday music. Steve had it turned to a Sirius/XM station set up for this time of year. Karen, Michelle and I savored the sad classic “Same Old Lang Syne” early in the afternoon. I miss Dan Fogelberg, RIP. Later, I couldn’t believe that I had never before in my life heard The Village People performing “N-O-E-L.” Where have I been?

Yes, I wore my ugly jacket purchased for the occasion at the Salvation Army Thrift Store. It was a medium on a man that prefers the comfort of an extra large, I discovered more and more as the party continued. I stated that I felt like Chris Farley in ‘Tommy Boy.’ You remember the classic scene from that 1995 comedy, right? “Fat man in a little coat” is the operative line as Farley dances around, confined. After several Bud Light Limes, they asked me to do the Farley dance. I complied.

They swear they had no idea they would match.

With Steve churning out the first batch of daiquiris ever in his brand new blender, the conversation covered many subjects. We discussed NASCAR and the racetracks we’ve visited, since Steve had some stock car racing memorabilia along with his cherished Redskins collectibles. Lots of Poconos and Dovers and, of course, Watkins Glen, the road course just a couple hours down the upstate New York block. One couple also has Bristol and Las Vegas on the list.

And that lucky guy talked about one trip to Vegas, when he stepped out of the plane and won 1100 bucks in the airport slots and only had his fortune go up from there. His was the kind of weekend where a guy tried to rob him and the police were there to see it and take his side after he walloped the potential thief. It was the kind of trip where his hotel flooded, so they paid for a suite at a way better hotel and gave him a check to clean his wet clothing. Great party story. Didn’t I see that movie? No, but I would if they made it.

Certainly, notes were compared on where these ugly sweaters and shirts were purchased. Plenty of trips to thrift stores were taken, and our friend Michelle scored her ugly sweater at one just like Karen and I had gotten lucky for our party garb. Some folks struck out there, though, and found some ugly stuff at WalMart.

Somebody observed that there’s actually an Ugly Sweater store in the mega shopping, dining and entertainment complex, Destiny USA.

Expensive, they said.

And unneeded. I still want to donate my ugly jacket back tomorrow.