…when the Titanic was going down.
If I close my eyes, the sound coming from the upstairs bedroom (current location of four 11-year-old-girls, who are screaming, and jumping, and possibly, at least it sounds this way, are physically harming themselves by hurling one another into the walls of Aidan’s room) has got to be close to what it sounded like, that fateful night so many years ago.
Blood-curdling screams and body hurling. That, apparently, is what makes for a fun night at an 11-year-old slumber party.
We kept it small this year on purpose. We didn’t want to have to replace all of our windows. The collective sound of all four girls screaming at the same time transcends loud. Really. It crosses over into the obscene. Like a scene in some freaky science fiction movie where sound frequencies are used by evil overlords to dominate all lower subjects.
And that was just when Aidan was opening her gifts.
I kid you not. It sounds as if Aidan’s room is going to come crashing down into the family room, which lies directly below. Luckily, I’m typing out of harm’s way, if in fact, this does come to pass.
I’m seriously expecting to see one of their feet come crashing through the ceiling at any minute.
The screaming has been non-stop for nearly four and a half minutes. I’m not sure if I should call 911 or simply pour another glass of wine and go sit in the garage.
I so do not remember what it is like to be 11.
Here’s to a good weekend.
In fact, if you’re in a house where your ears are not bleeding, celebrate by tossing another 10 bucks that way.
In the name of charity….and quietness.