A Simple Gesture

I had a sleepover at a dear friend’s apartment on Monday night. A couple weeks ago, she made me copies of her keys. She told me I could stay whenever I wanted now that I was commuting. It was a simple gesture that remains one of the most meaningful things a friend has done for me. In my life.


Sleepovers and slumber parties kind of lose their luster after age 14 I suppose.

Wasn’t there something magical about sleeping at a friend’s house when you were younger? Not a slumber party, but just a special night with your best friend. Before kissing boys was a topic of conversation. Before classmates could be mean. Before we had to bring along our face wash or yearbooks. When our teddy bears still shared our sleeping bags, and belting Broadway show tunes into a hairbrush microphone was the evening activity.

I’m talking about the dreamy, simple, little kid stuff:


Popcorn and movies.

Giggles and flashlight tag.

Candy Land with real gumdrops.

Hot chocolate served in fancy teacups.

Braiding hair and tree swings.

Catching fireflies and counting shooting stars.

My grown-up sleepover at my friend’s was lovely. We went to dinner and then curled up to watch The Bachelor finale. We talked about the future, upcoming choices we have to make. We talked about weddings and how we missed a friend that has moved far away. It was simple, good clean fun. Just like when we were little girls.

image from http://www.flickr.com/photos/sminor/4048121542/