This morning, we awoke after the sleepover and were congratulating ourselves. The partygoers seemed to enjoy themselves and get along, they quieted down as soon as I asked them to, and no one brought food or drinks into the freshly carpeted basement. It was awesome! We finally figured out how to host a successful sleepover!
Then, the boys started waking up, and we found out that one was missing.
Apparently, he felt sick in the night and, without telling us or any of the other children, he walked home. About a mile and a half. Around 2am.
Within a few minutes, the boys noticed his absence, so they looked for him. When they couldn't find him, his brother called home, and found that he'd made it. Older brother's main concern? He was afraid I'd be mad at him for using my desk phone to call home. There is something seriously bizarre about these kids.
This morning, his father came to pick up the remaining son. He was uncharacteristically quiet. Which, I suppose, is an indication that he is ticked at US because his son snuck out of our house while we slept.
YES, Hubby and I feel responsible. And YES, we are extremely grateful that That Boy made it home safe, and we didn't have to talk to the sheriff this morning. But, who would have thought that you had to tell a 12 year old that when he comes for a sleepover, he is required to SLEEP OVER until either his parents come for him or he asks one of us for a ride home? Holy crap on a cracker. Holy heaping crap.