Girls Night

So the Girls came over this evening for Friday Night Movie Night.  Guess what movie we watched...

Lou's best friends in the entire world are a pair of sisters and these girls are about as good of friends as any three-year old could have.  They came over and everyone promptly changed into a new outfit.  Emotions ran high as Lou remembered that having friends over means that they get to use your stuff.  Sharing is a tough concept for an only child.  The Sisters reminded Lou and myself that, "when her is at our house her gets to use our stuff, so now her has to share hers."  Once we made it over the sharing speed bump they played as only three-year olds can.  Is there some unwritten law that small children can't remain clothed for an entire evening?  Every outfit in our dress-up arsenal was worn and passed around; and when we'd burned through them all, it was time for everyone to run around in their skivvies. 

After the Hour of Underwear, we were once again back to the dress-up clothes.  It was around this time that the melting began, so I quickly swooped in with the Chicken Distraction. 

The Chicken Distraction is this: when things get hairy, try to make everyone forget by pointing out how ridiculous the chickens are.  Works every time. 

So we looked out the window and laughed at the Hens getting cozy in the dirt.  And then we went outside to feed them some pretzels.  Once we got outside the Girls remembered that I have a great pile of dirt back there that's perfect for digging.  I'm starting to wonder if I should just scrap the garden and keep our farm version of a sandbox instead.

I'll admit that a part of me was thinking about laundry, specifically how much I had created in one evening by hosting a play-date, but I tried to make her be quiet.  Most of me was completely enjoying their enjoyment.  They got out every shovel and bucket and took off their shoes.  Honestly, there's nothing like the feeling of dirt in your toes.  And they have the rest of their lives to worry about clean clothes- and besides, I don't want to be the wet-blanket (this term is replacing "killjoy," as in when Cinderella calls the clock a killjoy, a word that I've been told falls under the category of "mean talk").

Goodbyes are always hard, and especially emotional, when you're three.  Our bedtime routine was tossed out and Lou was rushed into her bed shortly after the Girls' departure.  Instead of the usual drawn out collapse into sleep, Lou was out almost as soon as she lay down.  Hell, I'm even ready for bed.  She could sure use a shower, but we'll worry about that tomorrow.  As I sit here and look around my house, it's apparent that The Girls have been here.  The usual order has been replaced with the chaos that comes along with opening every drawer, box, and cabinet to find whatever there is to find in there.  I'm sure my compulsion will force me to pick up a bit before I go to bed, but the disorder is kind of nice.  Just like the dirt in Lou's toes, tomorrow it will remind us of how much fun we had tonight. 

There's nothing quite like a Girls Night.