One rare full moon on Friday the 13th brought a sleepover at our house. Then at 3:10 am, I was awake and checking on two little girls running around. Two very wide awake little girls. It's not unusual for the two of them to go to bed late, but I knew the little girl was going to her grandmother's the next day, over an hour away, and I wasn't sure her mother wanted her tuckered out and cranky. I told them they needed to get to bed, went back to bed myself, but I knew, my words probably meant very little to them. Next thing I know, it's morning. The girls were again very much wide awake. Allegedly, they fell asleep at some point on the couch and were awake by 8 am. I doubt they had much sleep at all. There just wouldn't have been enough time.
I wouldn't call this a sleepover night. I would call it a sleepless night.
By noon, the little girl was gone. And by 1:30, this was The Redhead. In the guest room.
As time would pass, I would check in on her, and find her in a variety of positions. Along with her feline companion.
Her eyes would open from time to time, she'd even speak briefly, but she was far from awake.
And if you're curious why I would take such pictures and annoy an obviously sleep-deprived child, well, that's the cost of such a sleepover.
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