The sleepover began like any other – the boys were indoors & outdoors. In & out. In & out. Starving. Upstairs & downstairs. Up & down. Up & down. Starving. Five little boys in one house sure have a way of making their presence known; mostly by absences…the absence of any concept of quiet or personal space. (note to self: never ever forget to lock bathroom door again) The absence of any clean areas in the house (but most especially in the “off limit” areas.) The absence of a single damn cookie, cracker, piece of cheese, cereal, pepperoni or any other snack-type food within a 5 mile radius. It’s like a bloody plague of locusts has just burned through, leaving only the spinach and half an onion in its wake.

The karate & ninja contest ended at 10:00 pm when I tossed their sleeping bags onto the playroom floor, offered popcorn and a movie, then crept back upstairs.

At midnight I shut the party down, letting them know in no uncertain terms that it was time to go to sleep. Now. Right now. Riiiiiight now.

An hour later saw me still awake, trying to ignore the banging and laughing downstairs. Finally I dragged myself to the basement where I gave them my best stink-eye, pointing soundlessly at each one of them for extra effect.

I’m a pretty sound sleeper, but subconsciously I must be in tune with the sounds of misbehaving children because I lay in my bed not quite sure what had rudely yanked me out of dreamland – at 3:30 am. And then I heard it; whispering on the main floor.

I tiptoed down, hoping to catch them in the act, but as luck would have it, a creak on the stairs alerted the little buggers and they scattered. By the time I made it to the playroom there were small inert bodies in their sleeping bags exactly as they should be, eyes closed. Uh huh. I threatened each one with serious bodily injury if they didn’t immediately go comatose and then tried to salvage what was left of the night.

The next morning saw me frying up pancakes as the boys chattered happily away. I went through the motions, amazed that, although they’d had little more than 4 hours of sleep, their batteries were fully charged while I tried not to trip over the bags under my eyes.

My time for payback will come.

Those lovely teenage years when, for them, morning doesn’t begin until at least lunchtime…and in preparation, I’m looking for a cheap set of bagpipes….