I'm happy to report that I survived Caroline's slumber party. I learned an important lesson, though: eight girls are TOO MANY for one slumber party in a small(ish) townhouse.
Last year we had five girls. Five was okay. Five was actually quite reasonable.
Eight is not reasonable.
Eight, is quite in fact, more than enough.
Craig, that rather crafty dude, managed to escape the estrogen overloaded party. He had one chance to see one of this oldest friends, who lives in Annapolis. This was the only night (or so he claims!) to see Pete before he leaves next week for his 18 months o' deployment fun. Because I'm not a wretched person, I obliged his request. However, he owes me. Big time. And oh, how he'll pay.
I'm not sure how he'll pay, but he will.
Like I said, I survived. And everyone seemed to have a good time, so I suppose we can label the party a success.
However, last night we discovered a drip in the ceiling of our basement. A drip that turned to two drips and eventually to three drips. Thankfully, the dripping was slow and minimal, but now, at 5:51 pm, our landlord and two plumbers are here, there is a hole in the basement ceiling and another hole in our middle level powder room.
And...the plumber just banged his head and is bleeding. Not profusely, thank goodness.
The fun never ends around here.
I'll be back with party pictures eventually. Probably tomorrow, but with the way things are going, I can't be certain.