12-year-old sleepover

Well, I got through it. Three 12-year-old girls stayed overnight Friday night. That’s in addition to my two 12-year-old girls. Another girl was invited, but my girls couldn’t get a hold of her. A pity. I told the girls, “Well, then it’s just us six.” They looked at me like, “I don’t think so.”

I gave them a laugh to let them know I was just kidding. After devouring almost three containers of cheese-in-the-crust pizza, they walked to the Marshall 6 Theatre to see the movie, “Get Smart.” I picked them up at 11 p.m. When they got in the car, I said, “I missed it by that much,” in my best Don Adams as Maxwell Smart voice.

Again, they were not amused. I brought them home and went to bed. They didn’t.

At 12:40 a.m., I yelled at one of my girls (they’re twins and sometimes I forget who I’m yelling at) — “Get to bed by 1 o’clock!”

At 3 a.m. they were still laughing and talking.

The next day, my 15-year-old son (who wasn’t happy to have all those 12-year-olds girls at the house — two are bad enough) and I went out garage saling. When we came back, my girls were up and we watched a movie, “National Treasure II.” Around noon, one of my girls noticed one of her friend’s shoes were still in the house. She called her on the phone.

“You left your shoes at our house,” my daughter said.

“I’m upstairs,” was the reply.

One girl had left at 8:30 a.m. because she had to babysit a younger sister and we all assumed the other two had left when I was out of the house and my girls were still sleeping. My girls had been sleeping downstairs.

So then the party was still on. I finally shooed everybody out of the house at 5 p.m.