Our baby girl had her first sleepover at a friend’s house this month, and in an unexpected turn of events, her Dad and I were thus afforded the opportunity to go to a “sleepover” at a friend’s house the same night.
I don’t know why I’m putting the last in quotes. That’s actually what happened.
Still, this is what occurs when you suddenly find yourself with — what I’m told — are called, “new friends.” With guest rooms.
Friends with kitsch.
Friends with amazing wool sheets and black-out shades I wanted to pull out of their fixtures and steal (the blinds not the friends).
Friends with style…
…who live near cows — and rainbows.
Friends with senses of humor…
…and other friends who tucker out your kid at their house while you’re reveling in all of the above.
