Tonight we are hosting a sleepover birthday party. A really loud one. And as I listen to the happy tween shrieks, I’m feeling like a bit of a loser, remembering how much I disliked loud sleepover birthday parties. Most of the time I couldn’t wait to get home to my quiet house where I could sit in a hot bath. I could say something like, “I guess I was a suffering Lupus patient, even at age 11….” But I suspect I was just a pretty lame kid as far as parties went. I’m working on redemption though because although I dragged a party down back then, I seem to be hosting a pretty fun one. Probably because I did the planning very gently, calmly, and quietly and am now alone, hidden behind a closed door, having just gotten out of a really hot shower.