All the couches were taken and blankets were strewn throughout the house.
It reminded me of a middle school slumber party except everyone was much taller this time. Country music faintly played in the background from the previous night’s kitchen dancing episode, and little whispers trickled throughout our three-level house as the sun started to rise.
When I participated in slumber parties in middle school, I learned fast that you never wanted to be the first one up or the last one up — you hoped that when you opened your eyes, you were somewhere in between.
I was sure this rule still applied.
One by one, each guest woke up from their slumbers, then came the aroma of roasted coffee beans, the popping sound of crisp bacon on the stove, and a string of continuous jokes that led to endless laughter.
The guests were all wearing a combination of each member of our family’s closets and it seemed as if all of us together were one big happy family, or maybe more a fraternity.
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