I continue to (somewhat shamelessly) post photos of my grandson on this blog.
There was a period in the early 1980s – probably '81 through about '84 – in which the social highlight of any given week for me was sleeping over a friend's house. Or having that friend sleep over my house.
I spent countless nights sleeping in friends' bedrooms and basements, often on the floor. This didn't bother me because I was a teenager, and teenagers can sleep on concrete.
Come to think of it, we did sleep on concrete once. I don't know why, but we spent much of a night sleeping on my friend Kevin's driveway. A couple of people slept in lawn chairs, and a couple of us just laid down where we were and slept for several hours.
Outside. In the middle of summer. In the driveway.
I don't know that I could pull that off now.
Anyway, sleepovers were always a lot of fun. I regularly slept at my friend Mel's house. When I did, I would grab my sleeping bag and literally nothing else, hop on my little BMX bike, and take the 15-minute ride to Mel's place on the north end of Wickliffe.
His mom would have 2-liter plastic bottles of Pepsi for both of us: regular for me and diet for Mel because of his Type 1 diabetes.
The morning after a sleepover, before I went home, Mel would inject himself with insulin. He would ask me where on his body he should do the injection and, if it wasn't someplace crazy like his eyeball or his face, he would jab the needle wherever I asked him to. I was always fascinated by this.
Mel's mom also supplied us with Little Debbie Swiss cake rolls, which now that I think about it, Mel seemed to eat without reservation. Those things weren't exactly sugar-free. Or maybe there was a sugar-free version?
All I know is, we would spent the evening drinking pop, downing those chocolate treats, and listening to the early 80s' New Wave music we both liked...Duran Duran, The Fixx, Flock of Seagulls, Men at Work, etc.
It was wonderful.
Terry and I still engage in sleepovers, only now they're always at our house and they involve my daughter Chloe and our grandson Cal.
Chloe will sometimes come and spend the night when my son-in-law Michael travels for work. Because we are so obsessed with her child, she gets a much-needed break from feeding, changing and generally caring for him. And we get to see our favorite little boy.
Everybody wins.
Unlike my childhood sleepovers, however, there is little to no soda consumed, and our overall sugar intake is considerably lower.
The music is still there, but it's limited to whatever tunes Cal's little infant gym will play.
And our bedtime nowadays is considerably earlier and entirely determined by Cal.
Other than that, the enjoyment factor is just as high, and I look forward to these sleepovers just as much as I looked forward to the ones four decades ago.
Probably more!
