The joy of sneaking out

One of my greatest joys as a tween was sneaking out.  Mind you, I was only able to sneak out of friend’s houses because it was impossible to sneak out of my house.  My father stayed up late watching TV, so late that he usually outlasted  me.  My bedroom window was too high to escape from, our doors were in desperate need of WD-40, and our loveable black lab, Yankee, would have wiggled and wagged loud enough to wake up the whole house upon hearing me attempt a stealth reentry to my house.

Even had I been able to sneak out my own house, there were no cute boys that lived close-by to go see and I never really had the nerve to be a roaming, late-night trouble maker.

Well, there was the one time I snuck out of a friend’s house to toilet paper a house (just A house, nobody in particular, not a crushed on boy or hated nemesis), my leg caught a bolt on one of those utility meter thingys, gouging a chunk of flesh from my shin.  I still have a scar.

To make this even funnier, my friend and I who’d snuck out to be TP-ing pranksters, were each carrying just ONE roll of toilet paper each.  An injury as severe as mine certainly wouldn’t have warranted using a measley TWO rolls of toilet paper on someone’s unsuspecting trees and bushes.  Who only takes TWO rolls of toilet paper when they go TP-ing??!!  (Oh right.  Me.)

One of my favorite memories from I’m guessing to be 8th grade, was a night that my friend Missy and I snuck out of her house.  Two doors down lived a boy, Ryan, whom I had a crush on and two houses behind her lived a boy, Bryan, whom you may have guessed, I also had a crush on.

It was summertime, warm even at midnight, only the sounds of crickets and pubescent boys’ changing voices could be heard.  I remember walking up the street, walking beside one of my crushes (I don’t remember which one), to the high school stadium.  Being OUT when we were supposed to be IN was exciting enough, but being with the boys after hours was damn near electrifying.

For what seemed like hours, the night went on.  We sat in the broadcaster’s booth at the stadium, talking til all hours of the night.  We weren’t doing anything bad, like sex or drugs, we were just hanging out.  Eventually other kids showed up and we ended up cruising the neighbor til even later.  It was fun simply because it was night time, we weren’t supposed to be roaming around at 3 AM with BOYS, and there was that thrill in wondering if we’d get caught but not actually caring if we did.  I remember that as the group began to slowly break up and head home, how much I wished my evening was ending with a kiss.  It didn’t.

We didn’t get caught that night, or any of the other nights we snuck out of Missy’s house.

The joy of sneaking out is probably the only thing I miss about junior high.

~This memory is brought to you by today’s sponsor “Home Alarms R Us”  Keeping your kids inside where they belong.~  (Not a real sponsor) (Duh)