Slumber Party

Last night it was slumber party night. 

I was shifty and agitated yesterday.  A hard case of cabin fever despite having been out for work during the day, I could not shake.  I was bored.  I get bored so easily it's embarassing.  I love good television, but I am not one to watch it for hours on end.  My husband gets to bed at a respectable, adult time given his early morning work shift.  I, on the other hand, love me some nights.  But weeknights can be a drag when you can't be arsed to update your status on Facebook every few minutes...when there is nothing catching my attention on T.V.... when you don't have the latest arrival from Netflix, and the house is already pretty dang clean. 

There's a place I know I could go for a good time.  It's open late, and the food is fattening.  This place is often referred to as "Mom's" and my nieces and nephews' friends call it "Gramma Cory's"

My mom is a weird senior citizen.  She doesn't get to bed before 9 p.m. In fact, she is rarely in bed before 4 a.m.  She has an insane amount of evening energy and she sleeps in until 11 on a good day.  She likes those quiet evenings and will watch a movie classic, catch up on puzzles, have a late night meal with another of my werewolf siblings.  This is my mom, who I can count on to be awake late on a weeknight.

So I put my husband to bed.  I tucked him in, said my goodbyes and drove straight to mom's.  My niece was there, I was sure of that based on the rapid text messages we were shooting back and forth prior.  Ahhhh.... she keeps me young and my texting fingers nimble.  I know what "idk" and "omg" mean.  I can count on her for good conversation on all things "Twilight" and MTV.  She keeps me posted on the release dates of new albums.  I know what getting "hyphy" means and I am certain I am headed for an early mid-life crisis thanks to her influence.

And so like the trusty juvenile she is, she was trying to track down a boot leg copy of Paranormal Activity for our viewing pleasure.  Us Dorados' love us some scary movies.  Thrillers, horrors, slashers, alien abductions.... we love it all.  Being the youngest of so many dang kids (think octo-mom minus twins and significantly less of a fame-seeker), I started watching scary films way early.  There was no choice in the matter, really.  If my siblings were helping to care for me, I pretty much saw the rated-R stuff on a frequent basis.  Elder siblings' idea of jokes were to force us little'uns into bathrooms and say things like "Candyman" in the mirror, snatch the light bulb, and hold the door handle so we couldn't escape while crying out for dear life in a square bathroom with demons locked inside the mirror.

Ahhhhhhh, siblings.  How I heart thee for making me thick-skinned on all things scary and un-real.

So last night we settled for "The Orphan", because nothing says family-female-bonding better for us than eerie tales of possession and evil.  We nestled under blankies, turned out all the lights, and delighted in watching this late night film.

The evening didn't disappoint.  I crouched into my mom's bed after the film ended.  My niece retreated to her room at the house.  My mom stayed up well beyond the film's ending and fell asleep on the couch.  Junk food, thriller, and the smells of my childhood home.  Ahhh, it's the strange and simple things that delight me.