At dinner, after we ran a little more than 9.5 miles — hello, marathon training! — Joanna started talking about something “nostalgic” that she had thought about recently.
“We don’t have sleepovers anymore.”
It is the sad truth. When you are not sober enough to drive home and end up sleeping on your friend’s couch, that’s not a sleepover. That’s crashing at your friend’s house. And then Joanna mentioned her boyfriend … but we quickly agreed that is not a sleepover as well.
Our middle school years revolved around sleepovers. Someone’s having a birthday? Make it into a sleepover birthday party — unless it’s a bowling birthday party. I had a few of those … rest in peace, Hub bowling alley.
Mostly I just remember nights of laughing, lots of laughing. Anything and everything made us laugh. And we watched chick flicks on VHS, that our parents rented from Blockbuster. Or, sometimes we just danced for hours to Backstreet Boys. Or, braided one another’s hair. (Am I sounding lame? Was my childhood not hip? No! Never!) We confided and shared secrets — obviously every 12-year-old has lots of deep dark secrets!
And we never got tired of it. We stayed up talking and talking until the sleepover host’s parents yelled from down the hall to go to sleep. And we never got tired of each other. One time my friend Gwen and I had back-to-back sleepovers! And for the record, they are sleepovers, not slumber parties.
Why did sleepovers have to end? Oh, right, because we’re adults now.