Sleepover

There is no sleeping, or at least very little sleeping, at a sleepover. Certainly the kids don't think that's the point. I know I'd like to go to bed, and Beast has completely crapped out (this is what watching preseason football will do for you!).

I didn't actually fall asleep last night until sometime after 12:30 a.m., in spite of heading to bed around 10:10. Not sure what the problem was, but the end result was that I got just about 5 hours of sleep, bitched out Sparky on my way out the door, got to work late, and ended up driving in a blinding T-storm to pick up Z. for tonight's festivities. I'm v e r y tired. My eyes feel like a dry riverbed. Part of that is from being on a computer for most of the day (when I wasn't trying to see the road in the rain).

Too much. I'm going to wind this up and read. Yes, I used to know how to do that...! But first, it's time for my 10:30 checkup on the action in the basement, Where The Boys Are.

[I remember when boys this age terrified me--now, they make me laugh at their weirdness. I guess that means I'm over myself. A little.]