The whisky: Having a party

In the basement, behind all the piles of stuff, there was a bar. Yes a real bar. The previous occupants of the house had designed the basement in a modern look, with a real-looking wet bar and stools. Now it was practically impossible to reach the bar. I knew there was some whisky there, that my mother had brought down from my grandmother's house. Going back there, I found Seagrams, Johnny Walker Black Label, Chivas and more Canadian whiskies. I carred 4 boxes up to my room. I wanted to give it away. It was one small act to clear things up. My father saw the bottles in my room.
"I think I inherited that from my father," he said.
"They're Canadian mostly," I explained, "probably what mom brought down from Canada. Do you mind if I donate them?"
"No I don't mind. To where?"
"Like a synagogue. They can appreciate this stuff for events."
"Well I'll ask your mother."
He went away. I heard a resounding 'no' reverberate from down the hall.
My father came back. "Your mother says that she is saving those, she is planning to throw a party."
"Party? Where? In this house?"
"That's what she says."