Sleeping Over

... When our family visit was nearly over at my aunt’s, my older cousin said, “Why don’t you sleep over? . . . It’ll be great!”

So, I’d go into my whining let-me-sleep-over mode. “But you don’t have any PJs,” my mom pointed out.

I’ll borrow some, I moaned until she let me stay.

Then I realized how scary it was to sleep in someone else’s house. The water pipes made strange creepy noises. Cars drove by the window all night. Horns honked up the street.

We usually stayed up as late as we could so we’d be too tired to be bothered by the noises.

My cousin and I squeezed into the single bed. I got the wall - otherwise I’d fall out. And in spite of this precaution, the household was awakened in the midnight hours by a big crash and lots of wailing when I fell on the floor. I felt like Dorothy in Oz and wondered how I got there.

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