It's such a shame. Some of the things we tend to outgrow as grown women, right? Slumber parties being possibly the saddest of them all. (Though I would say Journal writing runs a close second. . . )
A couple weeks ago we decided in honor of Jess moving we would resurrect the long lost tradition and gather in my home, like old times to invade the living room with bean bags for a night filled with fancy cheese plates, Motown records, and gratefruit spritzers. We lined the floor with quilts and thrifted floral sheets, stacked pillows around the table and dragged two twin mattresses down for additional lounging. The attire consisted of satin and lace with ladies arriving in vintage night gowns & robes in place of the classic sleep over uniform that we all embraced as 12 year olds back in the 90s, clad in square flannel plaid nightgowns, and slick braided hair.
Sure enough, it proved just as fun as it ever was. With two hilarious rounds of charades, an x rated version of "never have I ever," and even a half drunken toilet papering run shortly after I had fallen asleep and the ladies decided to go up around the corner with a case of Costco paper to target a house at random. They swear it was the best time they've all had in a good long while. Way to keep suburbia on edge, ladies.
So keep it in mind. How much somethings never change. Like how great it still feels to wile away an entire evening playing board games, dancing in pajamas and spilling secrets with your best girlfriends by your side. It should still be a "thing" don't you think? Because why should six graders get to have all the fun?
