Memory #176

One Saturday morning when I was in about fourth grade, I woke up crabby. Everybody from my brothers to my mom and dad told me I should get dressed, but I ignored them and laid around in my nightgown. Next thing I knew, my friend Julie's mom was at the door picking me up for a come-as-you-are party. As they whisked me away, I realized why my family had all been bugging me to get dressed, but it was too late. I just had time to put on slippers as Julie's family practically man-handled me out the door so it would be a genuine come-as-you-are party. Soon the car was full of preteen girls and Julie's parents took us to Denny's for breakfast. Some of the girls had obviously been warned by their moms that they were about to be kidnapped. These girls were wearing beautiful brand-new pajamas and slippers. Others apparently had families like mine who thought it would be cheating to give a heads up and were wearing ratty old nighties like I had on. After breakfast, we went back to Julie's house to play games. The game I remember most was where each girl had to draw a slip of paper from a hat and do whatever the paper said to do. One girl had to sing Mary Had a Little Lamb in front of everyone. Another one had to try to touch her tongue to her nose with her eyes crossed while doing jumping jacks. Mine was easy: I just had to do somersaults across the living room floor. The only problem, which I had been excruciatingly uncomfortable about ever since they kidnapped me from my house, was that I wasn't wearing any panties beneath my nightgown! I can't remember how I got out of doing the somersaults. I just recall the red-hot embarrassment of that moment.