Yes, this is about sleepovers…and yes, that is a bottle of Dimetapp. Don’t worry, denizens. I promise it will all come together soon enough.
Weren’t sleepovers awesome? Especially when they were at other people’s houses? Especially when they were supervised by parents who were way more lenient than your own parents?
[Tangentially, didn’t sleepovers absolutely suck when they were with friends who had über-strict parents? Like the mom at one slumber party who freaked out over the lines, “Don’t fuck with the Lords of Hell” and “Don’t fuck with the babysitter” from Adventures in Babysitting, and promptly turned off the movie. WTF? You know what happens when you turn off the babysitter, right? She grows up to be a Vegas prostitute who falls in love with a suicidal drunk. I’m just sayin’.]
I used to love the sleepovers that my BFF had for her birthday every year. They were the shiznit, because her mom was crazy in the best possible ways. She’d let us play pool and blast music and stay up all night, drinking caffeinated drinks and gorging ourselves on pizza, cake, and lots of candy that somehow always ended up in the strangest places (I swear, I still don’t know how those M&Ms ended up on the ceiling!).
It was also always her goal to scare the crap out of us multiple times throughout the night. And we’re talking hard-core scares. Case in point: One year, she arranged for a couple of friends to come to the house after midnight. One went around to the front door and rang the doorbell to lure us all out of the den (you know, because girls are just learning at that age to travel in packs). When we all went to the door, the other friend was going to sneak in through the pool room and hide in the pile of sleeping bags that we’d tossed on the floor in the den. He was all decked out, too, in a coverall and a hockey mask, with a rubber machete.
The problem, though, was that the television was so loud that we didn’t hear the doorbell. So we were all sitting in there when the hockey mask friend came in to the den. We all just kind of looked up from the movie as he strolled in, realized that he’d been busted, and ran back out the way he came in. It ended up being ridiculously funny rather than scary…but I’m willing to bet that if everything had gone according to plan, someone would have been changing her Underoos that night.
So what’s with the Dimetapp? Well, the very first time I spent the night for one of these fantastical birthday slumber parties, I was still getting over a cold. My friend’s mom was cool with me coming over since I wasn’t contagious anymore. Really, all I had was a cough, which I have always had a hard time getting rid of. So the mom gave me a dose of Dimetapp before pizza. She then proceeded to sneak out of the house while we were all sitting in the kitchen, go around to the backyard and jump at us through the kitchen window.
That was it for me. The fright was enough to trigger a spasm of coughing, that somehow decided it didn’t want to come up alone…so it brought my pizza and some of the Dimetapp with it. Yep, my very first slumber party and I ended up projectile vomiting purple pizza chunks down my friend’s hall.
Who says I don’t know how to make a memorable first impression?