When I was in college, one of my favorite pastimes was staying up until the wee hours of the morning talking. I know…shocking. I specifically remember freshman year when my roommate and I stayed up until 2 or 3 am on pretty much a nightly basis, talking about boys and classes and boys and the latest episode of Grey’s Anatomy and boys.
And, of course, our academic pursuits.
We were giddy with the freedom and the absence of someone in authority telling us to STOP TALKING AND GO TO SLEEP. The talking was poorly planned because we both had 8:00 classes, and went to the dining hall for breakfast before class every single day. We sat at the table next to the football team and it was our daily brush with division 1 football fame.
Also, I valued starting each day with as many fried potato products as possible.
Anyway, when I graduated and came home, I noticed that when it was bedtime, everyone in my family would just get in bed and go to sleep. It’s like they wanted to be well rested for work and school and responsibilities! I, on the other hand, could not make myself do that. So every night I would go to Emily’s room and chat with her until my mom would come into the hallway and say “LEAVE EMILY ALONE AND LET HER GO TO SLEEP.”
However, now that I’m a full year into this whole “waking up fairly early and not having time for a three to four hour afternoon nap” routine, I love nothing more than to get in bed and go right to sleep at 10:30. I’m twenty two going on SENIOR CITIZEN. Unfortunately, the tables are turning because every night for the past two weeks, Emily has come to my door several times while I am trying to go to sleep.
Just other night I was brushing my teeth, and when I came out of the bathroom, she was sitting on my bed waiting for me. She wanted to see the youtube video of Phoebe singing Smelly Cat, which really made me regret singing my own version to her in the car earlier that day and putting the idea in her head. We watched the video and then I turned out my light and started to fall asleep. Until I heard my door slowly open and someone tiptoe in. I opened my eyes and there was Emily, about two inches away from my face saying “can I just turn your light on so I can ask you a quick question?” Sure Emily, just make sure you stand far away because because MY HEAD, IT MIGHT EXPLODE.
Em turned on the light, held out her hand and asked “which color do you like best?” as she showcased five differently painted nails. My head went from imminent explosion to pure joy, because seriously? It made me feel like a rock star that she went to all the trouble to paint her nails five different colors, and then wanted my opinion on which one I liked best so badly that she was willing to wake me up to get it. I’m sure if I had a little brother I would think the world of him, but having a little sister? Pretty sweet.
(Although I knew there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in you know where that she would pick the color I chose, because she is, how can I say, CONTRARY? But still, it’s the thought that counts.)
This week I have been dog sitting, so I haven’t been at home. And let me tell you, I’ve been missed by the rest of the family. Understandably so. I went home on my lunch hour the other day to get some more clothes, and Emily greeted me at the door with a HUGE hug. That’s remarkable because she’s 15 and at the age where she and her friends hug EVERY SINGLE TIME they see each other, but hugging your sister? TOTALLY NOT COOL. But I got a hug the other day, and even Phil was glad to see me.
We all talked for a few minutes and then I went into the bathroom because I forgot to pack my Dramatically Different Moisturizing Gel, without which I cannot survive. When I came back Emily had played a practical joke in the form of taking several knick knacks off of my dresser and hiding them. And removing the light bulb from my lamp.
And then Phil locked my in my room and did some tricky maneuver with the key from his spot in the hallway so I could not get out.
It’s so nice to be missed.