July 4th, after a fantastic hike with my brother and his family, we decided to let our boys sleep over at Momoo and Dadoo's house. I have realized that sometimes I would rather not know what happens, but it never fails, every person has to give me the blow-by-blow events of the night.
Personally, I have fond memories sleeping at Grandma Cherie's house: watching Bugsy Malone & Freaky Friday (apparently Jodie Foster was a staple of our movie selections), helping Grandpa stuff envelopes, unknowingly committing a felony by photocopying $100 bills (we never saw those in our own home), and a sugar-dense breakfast of Winchell's donuts.
I have tried to remember the phrase "What happens at Grandma's, stays at Grandma's." If this happened often, I'd probably put my foot down more. For some reason, whenever Bradley, Noah & Jordan get together, they try to stay up later than the time before. This last sleepover was no exception. Not only did they surpass their last record, but they never ended up going to sleep that night at all (Mason was the only reasonable one). Mom being notorious for her lack of sleep, thought it would a blast to go out to breakfast at 3 a.m.
Apparently the boys did too.
I am thrilled that they are creating memories with their cousins. However, I have oft uttered the phrase that was also drilled in my brain......"If you are going to be this crabby after you have a sleepover, you won't get to do it again."
I have become Mom and my children have become me.
It's a cruel, cruel world.
Blueberry Hill "breakfast" at 3 am