DON’T DO THIS!!! WARNING! DANGER!!!
This is definitely a list I need to keep and re-read, as the 4 boy’s birthdays revolve around the calendar. This happened June 7, for my second-born son’s birthday. But, I am just now recovered enough to be able to write about it. I don’t like going crazy with birthdays, so this year, I compromised with a sleep-over. They want to watch the Cavs game, so I envision them all snuggled under their sleeping bags, lights off, their faces beaming from the glow of the TV. Instead, this happens:
I will preface this list with this: The boys were well-behaved and wonderful, except for the toothpaste incident. I would have them over again — just not at the same time, unless they’re driving, and in that case, I’d let them spend the night again to keep my eye on them.
- It all starts when I notice one of the boys is limping. He has a splinter — he’s had it for days, and he won’t let anyone, including his parents touch it. I draw a bath of Epsom Salts to soak it, believing I can get it to come out tonight.
- We fix hot dogs and baked beans. No one eats.
- Another one complains of a headache. The other friend, concerned, tells me he had it at the pool. I give him water.
- We cut the cake, sing Happy Birthday and open presents. No one eats the cake.
- The one with the headache is now so sick that he thinks he’s going to get sick. I call his Mom. She’s not home, but the babysitter handles things very well. I figure he’s sick from the heat, etc. Turns out I’m right.
- We settle them downstairs with sleeping bags, turn on the Cavs game. Instead, they pull out all the costumes my 3 and 5 year old wear.
- At this point, I discover the power of the Mob. One screams he’s hungry — and the next thing I know, my husband and I are cooking fresh hot dogs at 10 p.m. We turn down their requests for cake.
- We settle them back downstairs. Some have forgotten their toothbrushes. They insist they can skip it for the night. I have spares.
- They get settled back in the basement, we start to clean up the kitchen. I hear the words “Pillow Fight.”
- I realize now that one of us will have to “sleep” downstairs with them for a little while. Between the options of giving baths to our 3 and 5 year olds, I take settling down in the basement. (I’m too tired for those toddlers.)
- One of them goes to the bathroom, and calls me in. With tears in his eyes, he shows me he has hives all over his body. We have not pets. He’s not sure if this has ever happened before. We call his Mom, and she’s on her way.
- While we’re on the phone with said parents, we hear a scream from the basement. We run to check, only to find that the only boy who was asleep, now has his face covered in toothpaste. I guess they had to have at least one crank prank to brag about.
- They go to sleep. 7 A.M, they’re up, out the door, and holding a squirt gun fight.
Note to self: Do Not Host Sleepovers.