Sleepover, hour seventeen, Berkeley, CA.
Hour seventeen of the kids’ first sleepover, and ticked off the list are: innumerable art projects, some even completed; six slices of pizza; multiple cups of popcorn; way too many glasses of fruit juice; The Aristocats; three cookies; two pillow fights (one PM and one AM); a post-midnight sleep time for the daughter, one of her most shimmering and heretofore unattainable of bucket list-items; five-to-six waffles with blueberries, bananas, nuts, whipping cream, maple syrup, and cinnamon sugar; and one only partially frazzled Baba, thanks in part to some expert sleepover management advice, proffered on Twitter from a wise Internet Chum. Mama’s out of town this weekend, natch.
Pictured above, under a sheet and atop every pillow and blanket in the house, smothering a commandeered couch: one five-year-old boy, two seven-year-old girls, and a freshly ten-year-old girl cousin. Singing infinite dada variations on “There’s a Hole in the Bucket,” following inspiration by the Harry Belafonte/ Odetta version (YouTube’s got it here).
[For archival purposes and in honor of today’s date, what I posted last year: News Flash! ]
Sounds quite lovely. Congrats on surviving.