The Great Sleepover Escape

When I was about 6 years old I spent the night with my best friend, Marie. Marie lived across the street from our house. We were having fun and enjoying our sleep over and then it was time for bed. Marie's mother was a very nice woman named Ruby. She came to put us to bed and was being friendly and playful as she tucked us in. I remember her smiling sweetly as she said "...and tomorrow morning were going to get up and I'm going to make y'all a big pancake breakfast!"

Terror struck to the heart of me when she said this. I knew for a fact that their family always ate pancakes with maple syrup while our family always used cane syrup. I hated maple syrup with a passion!! As Marie drifted off to sleep, I lied awake worrying about whether Miss Ruby would make me eat everything on my plate at breakfast.

I was very shy in those days and not good at all when it came to talking to adults about my likes and dislikes. Besides I was a guest in their house and it would seem rude to refuse to eat their godawful (achh!) maple syrup.

Next to Marie's room was the living room where her father sat dozing in his big chair while watching the late show. I lay there until I heard him snoring. I knew the only way to avoid the embarrassment of refusing to eat maple syrup or worse yet, puking up maple syrup pancakes in front of my friend's family was to escape the sleepover.

I quietly tip-toed ninja-like past her sleeping father and made my way to the back door where I was less likely to be caught. I was just barely able to reach the lock on the door but I finally did and made it out. I left the door open because I was too scared someone might hear if I closed it.

I made my escape wearing my pink ruffled silky pant-suit style pajamas (looked like a  mini Zsa Zsa Gabor outfit). I ran quickly across the street to my house. Luckily our door was always unlocked back then. I believe it was probably around midnight, as everyone was asleep in our house too when I got home. I went upstairs and slept in my own bed.

I awoke early and stayed upstairs because I knew Mama would want to know what I was doing at home. I was so scared I was going to be in trouble for running away in the middle of the night. About 7:00 am the phone rang and I quickly answered it. It was Marie's father. He told me they were worried when they awoke and found me gone. (Looking back now, I can only imagine the fear they must have felt finding the back door wide open and a six year old neighbor's kid missing.) I quickly thought up a lie and told him my tummy had started hurting and I came home early in the morning. He said he was just glad to know I was at home and that I was alright.

I went downstairs and told Mama the same thing. She said "Aw, poor wittle ting. And I was just about to start some pancakes".  Pancakes? Oh well, I feel okay enough to have some pancakes. Do we have cane syrup?

No matter how much I love my friends or how much I thought I really wanted to go out into the world and seek adventures in foreign locales, I have to admit, everything's always better at home.