Last weekend, Zoe attended, with a bunch of other girls, a sleep over to celebrate a pal’s tenth birthday.
You would think that – this being Zoe’s third sleep over – I would be better equipped to handle her not being home for an extended period of time.
Well, I wasn’t!
Of course she was safe and sound under the supervision of a couple of responsible moms and aunts (thanks to my contacts at ‘the Bureau’, full background checks were completed). I wasn’t too worried from that front – even though I had my truck backed into the driveway with the keys on my nightstand – just in case I got a call for pickup and had to lunge into action, like Hondo and the boys from the old SWAT TV show.
The most angst came simply from her not being home. Rocky took it hard too. The third member of our evening walking group was off frolicking at a party, eating cake and getting her nails done. In fact, Rocky spent the better part of his Saturday night camped outside the kid’s room.
There were no pre bedtime last minute glasses of water to retrieve. There were no bathroom doors opening and closing during the overnight hours. The faint light of a laptop – that should have been powered down hours earlier – did not sneak out under Zoe’s bedroom door.
It just wasn’t the same.
Mrs. McCullough, who generally is much tougher than me, handles these sorts of things better. Me, I have to work on coming to terms with the fact that our daughter will hit double-digits next year! Today, it’s a sleep over. Tomorrow, it’ll be her first night away at college.
My first over nighter was during a Boy Scout camping trip (braving the elements with my frugal father’s Army issued rucksack and bedroll). I didn’t give it much thought then, but I know now why my folks were so happy to see me when I returned home.
I’m happy Zoe is home. Excuse me while I go and check on her.