Emma and I have been friends for almost twenty years. Twenty years! I still remember the sailor dress she was wearing at my fifth Birthday party, and she still remembers the magician who pulled a real white rabbit out of his hat. Birthdays just haven't compared since. Friday night loomed and we couldn't decide what to do - and so we resorted to our childhood failsafe. The Sleepover.
The sleepover is a childhood rite of passage, and is created through certain key ingredients.
1) It is imperative that there is pizza. In 1997, this would be ordered in from Pizza Hut by an adult - in 2010 it is bought on my way home from work and served with salad. The addition of vegetables would never have passed muster with my twelve year old self, but today we require some semblance of a balanced diet. We also made the executive decision to replace bubbles in a can with bubbles in a flute. It was Friday, after all.
2) Some effort at a girly activity must be made. Be it nail painting or hair braiding. We opted for bright green facemasks that restricted all facial movement, and resulted in a squeaky clean appearance that all to eerily reflected our 1997 selves.
3) To counteract any good achieved from salad and facials, it is essential to consume ones own body weight in ice cream and sweets. Always Haagan Daaz. Always Haribo. This is non negotiable.
4) 1997 would insist upon two films. Usually Clueless, followed by The Craft. This would result in at least two girls having nightmares while the rest dreamt of vast, revolving, colour co-ordinated wardrobes. 2010 is happy with nondescript background music.
5) Gossip was essential. Secret sharing and soul baring. 2010 brings the addition of reminiscing and nostalgia.
5) The 1997 badge of honour was achieved by staying awake all night - a torturous task, and one I inevitably failed at. 2010 requires much less of the sleepover participant, and we took great pleasure in being tucked up at midnight.
The definition of good clean fun with my oldest and most treasured friend. A quite fabulous Friday.
No comments:
Post a Comment