What Tylenol Is For......

Girl X had her first slumber party this weekend. It was.... um... anyway.

I thought I was dreaming when she asked me if she could have one. She's a pretty smart kid. She waited until very early in the morning and whispered while I was sleeping. I remember saying yes.

And she held me to it.

I think it might have been different if the 3 girls invited hadn't been sisters. But they were. And sisters? Internet, listen because this is important.
Sisters fight. A lot.
And I know this. I have a sister. We fight all the time. Not a week goes by that I don't thank Florida for being on the other side of the country and for keeping her.
But yeah. Sisters. All her friends, really cute girls.
I spent the first 3 hours that they were there mediating fights.

"She threatened me!"

"She didn't threaten you. She just asked you to please stop hitting her in the head with your shoe."

"It wasn't my shoe it was her shoe."

"Right. Stop hitting each other."

"She won't share."

"I'll share my shoe."

"No one is sharing any footwear of any kind."

Mr X came home and I took the opportunity to go get dinner for the kids.

Yeah. That's right. I left my dear sweet husband alone with a raging toddler, 4 girls (3 of whom are sisters), several pairs of shoes and absolutely no idea what he was doing. And I laughed.
When I came home the house was quiet. I peeked in on the girls to see them crawling around Girl X's room, whispering.
When I came upstairs Mr X made me swear that I would never ever leave again.
He became desperate and told them there was a frog under her bed and if they were quiet they might find it.
It must have been pretty bad to make him resort to lying.
After dinner we got them settled into a movie and it was the quietest 20 minutes I had all day. for the other hour and 40 minutes they argued over whether Stitch was going to live or die.
Girl X ended it with "It's a Disney movie. Kids and animals always get happy endings."

Bedtime. Oh how that word sounded so sweet. I was so wrong. Because bedtime became a whole 'nother issue.

"She keeps kicking me."

"She has the better pillow."

"She said she was going to flush my bear!"

"She won't be quiet."

"She farted."

And so it went for the next hour and a half until I promised that the next person who spoke, moved or farted was going to sleep upstairs alone.

What happened to slumber parties where you stayed up and giggled and told stupid stories?

The next day they were at it again.
The last time they came to me with their fighting, I had to refrain from using my Discipline for Children book to smack them upside the back of the head. Instead I told them that if one more fight happened, everyone was going to time out. I didn't care who started it or what it was about, everyone was going to a corner.

They shut up for the rest of the day.

When it was time to go home they hugged and declared it the best time they had ever had.
I can picture it in my head. The way I looked right then. I've watched enough cartoons in my adult, er, childhood to know what I looked like when my jaw hit the floor.

"But.... but.... but....."

Mr X closed my mouth for me and said we'd love to do it again sometime soon.

His side still hurts from where I pinched him.