The Sleepover
“Or this morning. I can’t actually remember what time we finally went to bed, but it had most definitely, positively been in the a.m. hours. Come to think of it, though, I can’t be totally sure, because I can’t remember much of last night.
I’ve been trying so hard to clear my head so I can figure this all out, but why hadn’t I started with the basics? Like what really happened last night? I remember Madame Mesmer telling me to lie down on the floor, and each of us staking out a space on the rug ...to follow her directions. I remember breathing deeply and trying not to laugh when she told us to relax our bums, but after that . . . ? Nothing. I can almost believe I’d just fallen asleep for the night then and there, but if so—how can we explain any of this?
I look around the room again. Everywhere my eyes rest, I see disaster. The tower of Mountain Dew cans on the coffee table reaches far above my head like a giant game of Jenga. The ceiling fan spins a long, slow trail of Silly String around and around, around and around.MoreLess
I’ve been trying so hard to clear my head so I can figure this all out, but why hadn’t I started with the basics? Like what really happened last night? I remember Madame Mesmer telling me to lie down on the floor, and each of us staking out a space on the rug ...to follow her directions. I remember breathing deeply and trying not to laugh when she told us to relax our bums, but after that . . . ? Nothing. I can almost believe I’d just fallen asleep for the night then and there, but if so—how can we explain any of this?
I look around the room again. Everywhere my eyes rest, I see disaster. The tower of Mountain Dew cans on the coffee table reaches far above my head like a giant game of Jenga. The ceiling fan spins a long, slow trail of Silly String around and around, around and around.MoreLess
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