“There is a time for many words, and there is also a time for sleep.”
About a week ago I gave my homeroom class a list of first that I had jotted down for blogging ideas. I asked them to help me choose what to write about for the day and pick an idea off the list. Today I did the same thing with my co-teaching class.
My first sleep over.
First of all I don’t remember how old I was. I can tell you that I was in early elementary school (3rd grade or earlier). We were still living in Columbia at the time. We lived in a modest home on a cul-de-sac on the outskirts of town.
As with most first sleep overs for young kids I had planned it with my “best friend.” Her name was Sasha. I feel like a horrible person because as I sit here staring at my screen, I can’t for the life of me remember her last name. I actually had to ask my parents for the purposes of this blog. According to them it was Martinez.
I should have known this. I remember their house had a very Spanish influenced decorating theme. There was the skull of a long-horn steer on the wall and a matadors cape next to it. A cow hide rug on the floor of the livingroom. “Mexican blankets” were draped over every surface.
Back to the story.
Sasha lived down the street from me. She was a year ahead of me in school. I thought she was very mature. She was my first friend who was a girl. Most of the kids on my street were boys.
I got along great with the boys. I remember being a bit of a tomboy. Boy’s were more fun than most girls that I knew. We did awesome things like load up three or four people in my red Radio Flyer at the top of the hill on our cul-de-sac. We’d flip the black handle bar around like sort of steering wheel and use the momentum of our combined weight to race down the hill. At the bottom crossed over the major highway (effectively giving my mother a heart attach when she found out) and into the field/ditch on the other side. Man, that was fun!
Sasha didn’t ever want to do things like this, no matter how often I suggested it. She wanted to do things like play with barbies, or play house or other “girl” things. In fact, she was kind of bossy and a little mean. I often see memes or t-shirts that talk about when we call little girls bossy it means they’re a leader. Maybe that’s true of some girls, not of Sasha. She was just manipulative. To be honest I don’t know why she was my best friend. (Maybe just because of proximity or because she was a girl.)
The day arrived. And… I fulfilled stereotypical “first sleep over” role, I went home in the middle of the night. I did not have fun.
- When playing outside before dinner Sasha convinced another kid on the street to join us. She thought it would be fun to have one person hold hands and the other to hold feet and to swing between them. When my turn in the middle came she dropped me. My top half (the side she held) hit the pavement of the road and a small pebble pierced my shoulder blade.
- I didn’t enjoy dinner. We didn’t eat hispanic food often in my house. And what her parents fixed my parents never fixed.
- Sasha wanted to stay up all night long. I was not down with this. (Even in my youth I LOVED sleep.)
- When I eventually did fall asleep she got a packet of Kool-Aid out of her kitchen, poured it into her hand and blew it in my face (up my nose) as I slept. When I asked her why she did that, she said it was “pixie dust.”
So… I wanted to go home.
Somewhat luckily my parents and her parents didn’t have to do much to make this happen. We walked down the road and met in the middle. I collapsed into my bed and fell fast asleep.
Since then I had few more sleep overs at other peoples houses. But, not many. I usually wanted people to come over to my house.
I’m still this way. I don’t actually sleep in other peoples places (even if you have the most comfortable bed/couch and in no way treat me like Sasha).
If I had to pick the place that I love best, it’s my own bed. For real.
-Goodnight (Okay… it’s only “good afternoon.” I’m just preping.)