In my sixth year, I had two birthdays.
This was a nicety on my mother’s part, you understand. I had slept through the first one. The night before I was so excited that I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking of all the fun things I would do at my party. I kept thinking about presents. And when dawn glimmered at about 5:00AM I marched into my parent’s bedroom, switched on the light and demanded everyone get up and start partying. By late morning the guests were arriving, and by midday I was fast asleep. My mother likes to remind me that I fell asleep standing up, but really I fell asleep hunched over my new presents like Gollum.
And nobody could wake me up. The guests were fed and sent home. There are even a few photos somewhere commemorating my “slumber party”, à la Weekend at Bernie’s.
I was distraught when I did wake up in the dead of night. And my mother organized another party for the following week. And I made sure I stayed awake the whole time.
(photo courtesy of Poznyakov/Dreamstime.com)
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