Sleepover

Not long ago my Mom surpassed her 74th birthday and turned 75! Her actual birthday landed on a Monday and she spent it giving out Thanksgiving baskets at her church all day then going to a local restaurant to indulge in perch for dinner. Several of us kids met up with them at my sisters house for cake afterward. Mom really likes German Chocolate and my sister created this FABULOUS, lower fat version (without all those eggs in the frosting!) for the adults while I prepared a dirt cake for the kids. I say prepared and that I did but I forgot to bring it. One of the kids asked as we approached Holland "Did we remember the dirt cake"? Silence. They didn't ask again, assuming that naturally it was in the van with us. Unfortunately, it was at home in the fridge and the card sat right by the phone where I left it.

This was all remedied by a quick trip to Meijer where we bought a cute (plastic looking) 6" triple chocolate cake complete with chocolate filling, frosting and flowers. The kids devoured it and the adults indulged in a more mature version with nuts and coconut. Doug was very willing to handle the dirt cake at home in the fridge. I believe it was gone by 5:00 the next day.

My sister gave Mom a card inviting her for a birthday sleepover that Friday; one that would include my niece from out of town. The card said to arrive at 3:00. When she arrived, they lazily suggested driving north for some coffee, window shopping, etc. When they left their house, J. dialed my cell phone, let it ring until I picked up and then promptly hung up. This told me to drive to their house, let myself in, find Mom's suitcase and swiftly head north. Our plan was to surprise Mom a sleepover at a great lakeside B&B for a night of relaxation and fun. I was chosen to be the welcoming committee (snowman) on the front porch as they drove past, apparantly on their way to Starbucks (the opposite direction). I placed a call letting them know when I would be there and began to get excited.

Wouldn't this be fun, having a night to myself with grown ups, doing something new and different...the suspense of the wait...having them drive past and there I would be? What I didn't plan for was the temps and wind off of lovely Lake Michigan. Lucky for me I had pulled on a wool sweater beneath my Gap down vest which sustained me for the first 10 minutes. I was eagerly awaiting their arrival, perched on the front steps like with bags over my shoulder. What little sun had bravely peeked out for my ride north soon slowly faded leaving an amazing view and a chill on my face. The beauty of the scene held me for nearly a minute then I had to step back under the porch roof for protection from the wind. I began to only wander onto the steps as I heard the approach of a vehicle and did little dance steps to keep warm as I had visions of the others in a warm vehicle, probably drinking hot coffee, oblivious to me losing my good hair day! My wait was distracted only by listening to the handyman who was installing the outdoor Christmas lights swear to himself on occasion.

Just as I was preparing to announce my arrival to the front desk, lest they think I was homeless and a little not right (with the dance moves and all), the red car turned the corner. I dashed to the steps and with frozen hands waved and swung Mom's overnight bag back and forth to show her she would be needing it (I don't think she ever made the connection). I believe she said "Isn't that Brittany"?

What followed was a really fun night of dinner where we were joined by yet another sister (and a grumpy waitress) leftover cake, hot tea and lots of remembering and laughing. We sat by the fireplace until 1 a.m. talking about chitlins (what are they anyway?), gizzards and chicken liver. We spoke in Southern and used words we normally wouldn't (like uuurp). We remembered who got to stay up late eating popcorn while growing up (not me). We asked Mom wierd things like "where did you ever come up with baked beans and weenies with bacon on top"? We discussed the merits of making lard at home and heard tales of

growing up in the south eating it on bread for a sandwhich.

It was a grand time, in a simple sort of way. A treasure to be remembered and perhaps an annual event to be built upon. Next time, I believe I'll wait inside.