Sleepless in Summer

Real gymnastics was one requirement of the sleepover. The girls wore their leotards and another coach and I led them through a variety of games and contests. Amy of the kip ended up getting her front tuck on floor, too. Then some pizza, some dessert. Already it was pushing 10:30 and I knew most of the girls went to bed much earlier. We turned on a movie. Surely that would lull them.

One by one, they snuck back into the gym. Soon the floor was overtaken by a full-fledged obstacle course (and a pretty crafty one, I must say), with some kind of dance-off taking place in the corner. The radio blasted its "club mix" of inappropriate songs. Tia made eye contact with me before shouting, "Don't trust a TOE!" along with one particular song (if you don't recognize the actual song, Google "Don't Trust Me" by 3OH!3).

At midnight, we tried to shut them down. We pulled mats onto the floor and immediately a fight broke out over who got to sleep on the tremendous resi mat. A few bruised feelings emerged. Then tensions flared between two factions: those who wanted to sleep and those who wanted to giggle all night. I sent the gigglers into the lobby, but even their whispers echoed into the gym. Some time around 3:30, even the most hardcore slumped into her sleeping bag.

At 7:30, I snapped on the lights, turned on the radio, and passed out bagels. "Good morning!" I called.

Groans and yawns. Fleetingly I wondered if the parents would complain that their children were wildly sleep-deprived. But hey, these kids would go to college someday and pull the same moves. They might as well learn now.