"mrs. wan, i'm posh spice."
"ooh! and i called sporty spice."
"mom, i'm baby spice."
"no, i said i was baby spice!"
"it's my house. i get to be baby spice."
and so on. it was comedy. and this was all while munching on cold pizza and leftover hot wings from pizza hut. the hub and i were a little alarmed when they'd only had half of a large pizza for dinner, but they pretty much hoovered up all the leftovers for breakfast, in addition to a tray of cinnamon rolls.
all in all, we had a total of seven girls over for the night. i'd set a limit of five, but how the hell was i supposed to say "no" when the kid asked me with *those* eyes?? besides, the tent was big enough to sleep like ten adults. we probably could've crammed in about six more kids in there if we wanted to. the hub lit tiki torches and citronella candles and they all piled in the tent and giggled for hours. we had the firepit all stocked up with firewood and all the makings for s'mores, but it got too late and there it all sits on the counter. oh, well. the extra sugar would've kept 'em up even later, i'm thinking.
i slept on the couch in the living room, in full view of the tent, just in case. shockingly, i managed to get all my forty winks, even with the giggling and squealing. i bet the neighborhood loved us last night.
and of course, the torches and candles were extinguished before we went to bed. i can totally imagine the scene, somewhere around 3:30am:
[loud pre-teen screaming]
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! THE TENT'S ON FIRE!!!"
and then we'd have fire trucks blaring through the night, nosy ass neighbors coming out to watch the scene, and the kid would never be able to have a sleepover again because parents wouldn't trust us anymore. we'd be outcasts, and have to move to idaho or something.