If She's Home, It Must Be Over

I'm finally getting around to uploading all the pictures that Fifth Grader took of her sleepover party - what, two weeks ago? - and, apparently, it is going to take three hours.

I suppose that's fine, seeing as it's Sunday. Normally the idea of anything taking THREE HOURS to complete would make me completely batty, but since I really don't have to do anything else besides wait, I will try to make the most of my time. Let's see, I can fold laundry, empty the dishwasher, start packing up the winter clothes...oooor, I can boss Fifth Grader around all day and make her do all the chores. Now we're talking!

Before you call in family services, let me just tell you about Fifth Grader's weekend so far. So about midweek, one of her friends called to invite her to a "Twilight" party on Friday night. Seems the entire female population of the fifth grade is immersed in this book series. Many of her friends are on at least the second book, several have finished all of them, and Fifth Grader is close to completing the first book. Now, of course, the movie is out on DVD and they all wanted to watch it together. Which means she and her friends can swoon over Edward, and I can still refuse to get involved in the whole sordid affair. I have pretty much continuously asserted to her that this is, in fact, not the first (or best) series of books to ever be written about vampires, and that someday she will read a proper vampire series and know these words to be true. She, of course, files this information under "mom's talking about the good old days again." Anyway, at least she's reading.

So we arranged for her to go home from school on Friday with another girl who is attending the party. Oh, and skip gymnastics practice, which I had the task of relaying to her coach. Friday afternoon, I got a call from another friend's mother, inviting Fifth Grader to a surprise party on Saturday night. This one is a scavenger hunt in the mall and dinner afterwards, from five to eight at night. Sure, I have no life of my own; why not cart the girl around to hers all weekend?

Saturday morning I picked her up, managed to shake a fair amount of room cleaning out of her during the day, and delivered her to the mall at five. Third Grader, who is such a great sport about being my constant companion, chose Applebee's and Target to fill the time. Target is a bad idea without a list, my friends. A very bad idea. After that bout of hedonism, we went back to the mall to fetch Fifth Grader, who was still at the restaurant and whose party had still not been served their food. So Third Grader and I roamed the mall for a half-hour. And the mall, without a list? Also a very bad idea.

Tired (and now broke), we retired to a bench outside the restaurant at 8:30. All the same girls that I just saw getting picked up in the morning come flying out of the restaurant...and the sleepover requests start flying as well. Other girls' parents arrive. Daughters beg fathers. Mothers look at daughters with wistful expressions. They are all a bunch of suckers. And, naturally, we all drove home, packed up our daughters, and delivered them to the winning girl's house.

So here we are, Sunday afternoon, and both of my daughters are finally home.

Oh, plus Third Grader's friend, who is here for the day. It was only fair.