G.N.O.

THE PLAN
An all-nighter, and the only rule was that we weren’t allowed to talk about our husbands or kids.


SOMETHING TO KNOW ABOUT ME AND MY SISTERS
When we all get together, our dirtiness, our skankiness, begins to eek out of our pores.
It is unstoppable.
It is uncontrollable.

Sexual jokes were in abundance. Breast comparing, also. Singing and dancing ensued in which we all somehow morphed into black people and rapped like we actually knew what we were doing.

SOMETHING TO KNOW ABOUT TWO OF MY SISTERS
Their OCD is uncontrollable.

They couldn’t get in the swimming pool at the hotel for fear they’d catch some bacterial and/or vanarial disease. They had to wear shoes on the carpets of our hotel room, socks or skin was not allowed to touch anything that could be a disease magnet (i.e. anything from the hotel). Sitting in chairs was out of the question, so was sitting on the bed (“I can’t sit on the bed,” one sister shrieked. “I might get rabies!”) It made the night quite difficult, as you can imagine. I had a hideously fun time hiding my sister’s slippers so she couldn’t get off the sanitized fort she had made on the bed.

We hurled insults at each other. We picked each other’s scabs and made one another bleed. We pinned each other down and pulled off each other’s pants; extra points were awarded if you could get the underwear down, too. We all eventually crashed watching a “horror” movie on the Lifetime channel. A movie about, you know, the usual (all they show on Lifetime): rape, murder, domestic abuse. How uplifting.

ONE LAST THING TO KNOW ABOUT ME AND MY SISTERS
We are all grown women. You may be a bit confused reading this. You may be thinking that a bunch of children, you know, immature adolescents, had a sleepover.
Not so.
We were adults.
Every single one of us.
And we had a whole hell of a lot of fun.