October 23, 2012

My Daughters, Only Vaguely Related To This Post

When I became old enough to have and go to sleepovers, I did so with a frequency that would make one wonder about the stability and safety of my home life.  It wasn't that I didn't like being at home, or that I didn't like own bedroom.  I have always been a very social person.  Sara and I have had many discussions about how I have social needs beyond family life.  She is usually content to spend the weekend with the kids, seeing her parents, or visiting with relatives.

I am not.

I like all of those people just fine, but I need more social interaction than that.  I need to be with friends very often.  I think this may be why I spend so much time on Facebook, but that's a post for another time.

In any event, I went to a ton of sleepovers.  I practically had a bag packed at all times in the event that the phone would ring and the following conversation would occur:

**RI...**  (I never let it get past the first chirp)
Me: Hello?
Awesome Kid From School: Hey Justin!  This is (Awesome Kid From School)!  I just got a new video game! Want to sleep over tonight and we can play it until we fall asleep in a bowl of popcorn?
Me: DO I??? You bet!

Author's Note: This never happened

I did get invited to sleep over at a friends house every other weekend or so. It didn't happen as often as I wanted for two main reasons.  The first reason is that "as often as I wanted" was every night.  I would have been happy to be picked up from the house of Friend A on Saturday morning, go home, get fresh clothes and head over to Friend B's house to sleep over for Saturday night.

Unrealistic?  Maybe.  Awesome plan?  No doubt!

The second reason was that most of my friends were girls.  This was due to a misguided section of my brain, lovingly raised and taught by movies and TV shows, that firmly believed that the best way to a woman's heart, or at least to second base, was to be her friend.

If the friend zone were on FourSquare, and if FourSquare had existed in 1995, I would have solidly been the mayor with absolutely no fear of being ousted.

Of all of the places that I remember sleeping over, there is one that sticks out in my mind more than any other.  I can remember no place more fun than staying at my friend Bryan's house.  He always had the coolest toys and video games and his parents are fantastic.  I stayed there so much that even to this day, I call his mother "Mom."  He collected the kinds of toys that were awesome and made it tough to sleep.  Not so much the batman figures, but he had a whole wall in his room covered in Alien and Predator toys that were staring at me all the time, wondering at the identity of this interloper in their midst.

Even at a young age, I was always an early riser.  It didn't seem to matter what time I went to sleep, I was always up at 6:30 or 7.  This posed a problem as he would be fine sleeping in until 9 or 10.

When I stayed at his house, I knew that I would be up, staring at the ceiling for a few hours before he got up.  Occasionally, I would bring a book so I had something to read, but more often, I would lay there for a while, praying for a priceless vase from the Ming Dynasty to fall off of a shelf in the living room, or for a cat to come in and pounce on Bryan.  Then he would wake up and say "Man, it's so early.  I won't be able to go back to sleep.  Let's do something awesome!"

And we would!

On occasions more rare than hen's teeth, I would gather up the courage to be rude enough to fake sneeze and then quick close my eyes, hoping that my allergies would have the same effect as the Ming vase or the errant cat.

I can't remember a single time when that worked.

I tried to be a good house guest and a good roommate, partly because I was raised to be those things, but mostly because I wanted to be invited back!

The girls have been sharing a room for a few months now and, for the most part, they are good roommates.  They do go through each others drawers every once in a while, but Brynn sleeps in her bed and Harper sleeps in hers.

However, as with every roommate relationship, each party has a trait that, if left unattended to, will bring about the decline of the relationship, forcing it into the downward spiral which culminates in one person putting sardines inside the pillowcase of the other in retaliation for replacing the toothpaste with caulk.

Since both the pillowcase and toothpaste belong to me, I would prefer to avoid this.

Harper's bad roommate trait is that she has a tendency to yell very loudly in the room when she needs something.  Call me crazy, but I thought part of the reason we got her a big girl bed was so that she could come and get us when she needed us.

As much as I hate that once a week, I look over to see a tiny silhouette standing in my doorway, inducing panic, fear and visions of a zombie apocalypse, I would prefer that to having her wake her sister at 3am.

Brynn's bad roommate trait is that she is the toddler equivalent of the guy on the top bunk.  If you've never lived at college with bunk beds, allow me to illustrate.

Picture that you are sleeping, dreaming of a beautiful woman who only has eyes for you.  In your dream, she asks you to curl up next to her on the couch and cuddle while you watch a Ridley Scott film.  In reality, you turn on your side, making the slightest of noises as the bed springs readjust beneath your shifting weight.  You hear another slight noise, and open your eyes to discover the upside down face of your bunk mate mere inches from your nose.  He has a concerned look on his face, or at least it seems so since emotions are hard to identify while upside down.  "Hey, buddy!  Everything alright?  I heard a noise and wanted to check on you!  Since you're up, let's play a game!  First, I'll think of a state and you try to guess it by guessing the state bird!  Ready?  GO!"

No, this is not a conversation I ever had in college.  My roommate, two weeks into the semester decided he was too lazy to climb to the top bunk and slept on the couch instead.

Brynn is this way in that, at the slightest noise in the room, she stands up in her crib, even from a dead sleep, and peers around the room, wanting to be a part of whatever is happening.

Gift giving holidays are coming and, while I have posted many times about how I don't want gifts, I think that if someone felt compelled to buy me anything, I wouldn't turn down bed straps for Brynn and a night gag for Harper.

Impromptu Survey:  How many of my readers have put Child Protective Services on speed dial?

If I put her in a cage at home, I'd go to jail.  Justice?  I don't think so!

Maybe I can just get Brynn to sleep in the sink.



Related Posts with Thumbnails