Back before Christmas, G had a sleepover at my house, so his parents could go shopping for Santa without him. Personally, I thought we had fun–we painted my window with tempera paints, we watched movies, I tried unsuccessfully to build a tent, and Max and Lulu curled up on the bed with G when it was time to go to sleep.
Every once and a while since that time, I’ve asked G if he wanted to do another sleep over at my house. He always says no.
When Mom was shuttling Uncle Ornery around yesterday, at one point, she dropped Ornery off in Provo, drove up to SLC, picked up G and E, then headed back down to Provo to pick up Ornery up, then went back to SLC. She asked to borrow my crock pot to get ready for the Easter Party, and, because I knew that she was planning on heading down to Provo anyway, I gave her a key to my house and told her were to find it.
When we got back from the expo, we were talking about what G did that day, and I asked if he stopped to visit Max and Lulu.
“No,” he said. “But I need to.”
I then asked if he wanted to do another sleepover at my house that night. The answer was, of course, no.
The Bro-in-Law heard me ask, and he asked G if he ever wanted to do another sleepover at my house. G looked at his dad, looked at me, then tried to nod and shake his head at the same time. Further questioning revealed that no, he doesn’t want to have another sleepover.
“Why don’t you want to have a sleep over at Aunt Cori’s?” was the next very sensible question.
“It scary.” was the answer.
Now, here’s the thing. G loves it when I come and visit, and he loves visiting me, and he’s always begging me to have a sleepover at his house. My house, though, is a lot noisier than his. When we tried the sleepover, he would almost be asleep, then we’d hear a train, or a loud car, or people talking, or the neighbor’s moving furniture or something that would wake him up, and he would say “What that?” I’d explain what it was, and he’d almost go back to sleep, only to repeat the process. It was a pretty long night for both of us.
I told him that I understood that it was scary, sometimes, trying to go to sleep when you aren’t in your own bed, and acknowledged that my house was very noisy, and suggested that we wait until he was older to try a sleepover again. I asked if he would be brave enough to sleep at my house when he was four. He thought about it, then gave a definitive “yes”.
Four is going to be a big year for that kid. Not only will he be brave enough to sleep at my house, but he’s also going to turn into a hiker, at least according to my dad.
I guess that means I have until his birthday in August to plan the most amazing sleepover ever.