The girls have been asking for a sleepover for quite some time and we have managed to distract them with potato chips.
This may seem strange but with so few treats in the house one can become easily hypnotized with a shiny bag of baked Lays and forget all about the thing they were craving earlier–even if that thing involved companionship and pillow fights with friends.
Hanna has been invited to a b-day party/sleepover and I’ve decided to let her attend. I guess I really no longer have a choice. If I say no, she will be forever known as that kid whose mother doesn’t let her have sleepovers, tagged like the kids who hand out apples and toothbrushes for Halloween. I can’t add that to being the mother who doesn’t give her kids treats but then when they least expect it– Lays. Or the mother who can’t quite figure out how the tall boots over jeans actually works without cutting off circulation in both the calves and toes.
It would simply be too risky. When life gets too confusing, kids will find fault in these minor inconsistencies and my kid will be the last one picked for the Dodge-ball league because of her mother’s bizarre approach to parenting. So, for her, I am sending her (chipless) to her very first overnight “sleepover.”
Here’s how I anticipate the evening going.
They are eight so not yet old enough for hand in the water or bra related tricks though I do anticipate bras being an interesting conversation point, potentially leading into a more “our bodies ourselves” in-depth type of chat. Perhaps this would be the right place for Hanna to debut “Hairy in the Area, doo doo doo,” on a captive audience, but I’m not one of those show-biz Moms so no pressure.
7pm, they’ll be high on powdered sugar straws with a few harmless mentions of boys, glitter glue as far as the eye can see. Someone may risk suggesting they like a particular t.v. program and based on the response of the group will be calling home for a ride and will instead spend their night deleting any trace of Dora The Explorer from their PVR.
8pm, inappropriate eye make-up application. Inappropriate for their age, the selection of colours (almost always with a deep purple or blackish hue) and the sheer (though there will be nothing sheer about the application) volume of creams and powders they’ll be sporting.
9pm, Hanna will be scouring the cupboards for Lays.
10pm, two hours past her usual bedtime, she’ll have grown tired of the mandatory sleepover antics including; Girls Just Wanna Have Fun (movie followed by dance-a-thon to the soundtrack). At least, that’s what I’m picturing.
10:45pm, she’ll get stuck in her friend’s fancy toilet and have to ask her father (a police officer) to help her out. This one may not actually happen but if I’m basing this on personal experience…..
11:00pm, phone call home asking me to pick Hanna up.
11:30pm, tucked into her own bed.
12:00am, Lays for Mommy.
Early next morning, welcome Princess Grumpy-pants with no way to distinguish the black make-up from heavy bags under her eyes. We’ve been expecting you.
Welcome to your sleepover years.
