There is always one friend in a group that hosts the majority of the sleepovers. For us, that was Melanie. In all honesty, I was staying over at her house (or passing out in her car on one of the side streets in her neighborhood) most weekends up until I graduated high school – but that’s because we were besties AND she didn’t live all the way in BFE like I did.
In middle school (6th-8th grade) Melanie’s house was the place to be for sleepovers. After the school dances, around 8 of us would pile into her mom’s car or get dropped off by our own parents to spend the night at the house that was my second home. Her kitchen table was always filled with snacks and Crystal Pepsi, which magically transformed to a table full of cereal boxes for us in the morning. We would watch Dirty Dancing or Girls Just Want to Have Fun, sing along to her CDs, beg her to sing Fancy by Reba McEntire, and play games like Light As a Feather Stiff As a Board. Sometimes the boys that were all gathered together at someone’s house would come over and we’d all hang out. It was at her house during a sleepover that Ryan sat next to me as we watched MTV and introduced me to Nirvana in 8th grade. I was awkward and shy and boys didn’t like me much back then. He probably doesn’t remember that moment, but I always will.
It was after midnight, though, that the real fun would begin. Eventually we would all don our Umbro shorts and Keds (or athletic shoes if you were a cheerleader), head down to her older brother’s old room in the garage, and prepare to sneak out. Melanie had usually been skimming off the toilet paper stash in her house for weeks in preparation. Or, if you were like me, you had your step-mom go and buy a pack of cheap toilet paper just for the occasion.
Our target was usually the friend that didn’t come to the sleepover, or in Maggie’s case, the girl who lived within walking distance that wasn’t with us. We would all quietly slip (or in my case squeeze) through the doggie door in her garage and make our way through the dark to Maggie’s house. No flashlights. No parents driving us (unless we were at my house). No limits. We were free. We were fucking ninjas.
As we stood back in the street to admire our handiwork, then walked back to Melanie’s in the dark, we formed a bond that to this day is still not broken. Some of us have moved away, made new friends, and joined different circles. We’re all still friends via social media and some of the best days are when someone will bring up those glory days and we all chime in and reminisce together.
That poor girl had her yard rolled so many times during our school years. A few of us even went back our Senior year and did it again one last time – for old times sake.
Do you have a memory of a sleepover that you would like to share? Head on over to see Emily or Ashley to grab your badge and get linked up or to check out the other posts in the blog hop!
Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll share another post about how my step-mom threw me a period party or the time I’m pretty sure we were all stalking my dad at a movie theater while he was on a date, while she was wearing a bra that we had stuck in a freezer. Sleepovers. Good times, people. Good times.