Won't-Go-To-Sleep-over
2004-08-29, 1:23 p.m.

Who ever got the bright idea to call them "sleepovers", when the concept of "sleep" seldom enters the equation?

Daughter had 4 overnight guests on Friday. They came bearing gifts and giggles and supplies of makeup and ready to attack the trampoline. They snarfed down pizza and ice cream cake and Capri Sun drinks by the dozen, stopping occasionally to haul around whatever of our critters was too slow to get away, and finally crammed into Daughter's bedroom to watch movies. By 9pm they were just getting revved up. I was forcing my eyes to remain open.

Hubby arrived home from Guru's house, and put on a movie for us. It was a bizarre but really good Korean action movie called "Oldboy". Strange, violent, and captivating, it had more twists and turns and surprises than an M. Night Shyamashamashamabanana flick. We were engrossed. And the girls were STILL up.

Midnight, time for my call to arms. "JAMMIES, NOW!" *hustle hustle* "BRUSH TEETH, NOW!" *scrubba scrubba* "TIME FOR BED!" *ignore*

12:30am "TIME FOR BED!" *ignore*

1:00am "TIME FOR BED!" *compliance* They actually bedded down! I was stunned. Of course, lying in sleeping bags has nothing to do with sleep, so they continued to squeak and snort into the night. Hubby and I could have gone to bed then, if not for the movie. We simply HAD to see the end. Thus, we ended up outlasting the girls and crashed, exhausted, at 1:45am.

The first guest awakened at an unholy 7:00 Saturday morning. The others quickly followed, bottomless pits ready for breakfast and further pet-nabbing and trampoline-bouncing. Later that morning, after the last guest had been whisked away by parents, it was time to retrieve Son from the Gurus'. He wasn't happy to see me and voiced his opinion of it loudly the entire way home. I made a vain attempt to run a few errands but gave up, went home, and took a nap.

Son is still mad.

He got even madder during the boat launch, since we had the audacity to take him someplace without video games or a computer.

He hit the boiling point when we dropped off the Family Guru at their home and he didn't get to stay and play with Little Squirt Guru. It was nearly 9pm, and Guru had to get ready for work. I was ready to fall into a coma. So, when you have a squalling little boy who is yelling his indignance in the back seat, there's only one thing to do. Grab your cell phone and let him call Grandma.

Grandma is of the opinion that her grandkids are the embodiment of perfection and all things adorable. Thus, she got a big kick out of Son's diatribe, and his pronouncement that she has to COME PICK HIM UP RIGHT NOW AND TAKE HIM TO HER HOUSE. As Grandma lives 5 hours away, that ain't gonna happen. She was tickled to be his choice port in this storm, though, and promised he can go there soon. (We are going for a couple of days during fall break.) When Son is wound up so that my only options are to either ship him to the Childrens' Home or send him in Grandma's direction, I've always found it far better to do the latter.

He's mad that he can't go to the Gurus today. He's mad that Grandma can't come get him. He's mad that it's not his birthday yet (3 more weeks). He's mad that his sister got a big sum o'money for her birthday and he's broke. He's mad that I made him get off the computer. He'll have to get over it at some point, or I will have to apply firm swift pressure to a soft little backside to speed along his recovery. It's going to be a looooooong Sunday afternoon.

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