My son is having a sleepover tomorrow for his birthday. There is no way I can let ten boys have the run of this place without cleaning it up a bit. I have to go grocery shopping before I can start baking his cake, and wouldn't you know it I agreed to help with a track meet tonight. It will probably be ten o'clock before I head to the store tonight, a forty-five minute drive.
For some reason I quit in the middle of this post. I made it through the party. They drank three cases of pop, and were playing tag in the house at five in the morning. I think this means the party was a success. The cake, if I do say so myself, turned out great. We made it into a wrestling ring with a raised platform and licorice ropes.