THUS QUOTH THE VICHY, "NEVERMORE"

To all who asked how Pey's party went, let me just lay it out there for ya: No more slumber parties at my house. Well, none that include one particular friend of Pey's. Just for fun, let's call her Brat. Brat is nine years old.

She started off the evening by walking into my house for the first time and approaching K, who was playing his guitar. I thought she'd say something like "cool, you play guitar!" Instead, we heard, "My aunt plays better than you do."

Thinking I must have misheard her, I sat there with my mouth open. Then she turns to me and says, "Really, my aunt DOES play waaay better than he does."

K later told me that he really wanted to say "wanna bet?" but he held back. I totally would have given him a pass for saying that.

Other fun with Brat:

1. At my friend's house (where we were scrapbooking), Brat was constantly running all around the house, despite the fact that she'd been told to stop because, among other things, Laura's baby was sleeping. I even caught her looking under door jambs to see what was behind closed doors.

2. After eating pizza, I told all the girls they needed to wash their hands so that they wouldn't get grease on their scrapbooks and pictures. Here's how that conversation played out:

Brat (whining): I don't neeeeed to.
Me: Yes, you do.
Brat (smearing pizza grease on her jeans): NoooOOOooo. I don't either.
Me: Get into the bathroom and wash your hands.
Brat: (stomps and grunts all the way to the bathroom) I'm just going to use water.
Me (sighing heavily): No, you're going to use soap.
Brat: I don't need it.
Me: Yes, you do.

At this point, she stops responding and just rinses her hands off, looking in the mirror and nonchalantly glancing toward the door to see if I'm still there. Knowing that the minute I turn my back she'll try to get away without using soap, I fold my arms, lean against the door, and just stare at her. Eventually I have to tell her again to get some soap, which she finally does. This process took nearly five full minutes.

3. Laura had borrowed a chocolate fountain for last night's crop, which was a big hit with everyone there. I took the girls into the kitchen so they could get some, and I handed them each a small plate. Three of my girls took a few marshmallows and strawberries, but Brat grabbed a big bunch of everything and then announced, "I need MORE chocolate." Then she stuck her plate under the fountain. OMG, what a mess - and a waste of chocolate. I gathered everyone up, let them eat what they had, then told them that was it for the evening. At this point it was nearly 9:00 anyway, and the last thing they needed was more sugar.

4. As it turns out, Brat is one of those sneaky-type girls (I hate that personality trait). Several times throughout the evening, she'd slip from her chair and disappear. I always found her in the kitchen dipping into the fountain again, even though I'd told her no more. She knew what she was doing was wrong, because she'd jump every time she saw me. I herded her back into the living room to work on her scrapbook time after time. (At one point, Laura noticed that I was getting frustrated and quietly offered me a beer. I graciously declined, as I figured "Pey's mom drinks!" would be the story that would get back to Brat's mom.)

5. Near the end of the evening, Brat started chasing Laura's two beautiful dogs around the house. She'd been told repeatedly to stop running, and as I sternly told her to get back to her chair, Laura, quite frustrated by this point, said "You need to go sit on the couch NOW." Now two adults were disciplining Brat, so she complied. She went to the sofa and laid down and went to sleep.

6. Only, no, she didn't. She faked being asleep. About ten minutes later, we had packed up and were ready to leave, and Brat wouldn't get up. She even did the heavy-breathing thing to try and fake us out. I leaned over and sat her up, and she flopped her head to one side, still "sleeping." Then I quietly said, "Well, if you're sleeping, I'll just take you home instead of to my house." Magically, her eyes popped open and she grinned and said, "I want to go to your house."

Darn.

The rest of the night was a blur to me because I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. We put all the girls down on sleeping bags in the living room and rented "Garfield II", and I set myself up a little bed on the sofa (much to Brat's chagrin - which is scary, now that I think about it). I was awakened a few times during the night, but this morning was wonderful because Brat's mom called two hours before everyone was supposed to leave and said that they needed to pick her up early. Oh heavenly bliss.

The other girls, by the way, were terrific. Pey has told everyone that she had a "great" birthday. She is very proud of her scrapbook, and even though I know I'm biased, I have to agree that it's beautiful.

This afternoon I (jokingly) asked Pey if she wanted to have Brat over to spend the night again tonight. She rolled her eyes, sighed, and said "No way." I think she was just as frustrated (and maybe a little embarrassed) as I was over Brat's antics last night.

Some good news - During K's soccer game today, he scored TWO goals! That's the first time he's ever scored a goal during a game, and we couldn't be prouder of him. I wish everyone could have seen the grin on his face; it was awesome.

I think I'll go take that nap now. I have a feeling that the fatigue I feel from last night is going to stay with me for a few days.