Her post If you could sleep with anyone in the world?
got me to thinking.
It was part of Silly on Sundays link up — so I’ll play along.
My answer to her question was I would like to sleep with my maternal grandmother, mother and sister — all of us at age 25.
Of course this sleepover would be held in 1930s Georgia. When it was cool enough to sleep comfortable — cause there would be NO air conditioning or central heat.
We’d all be piled together in our respective time-period jammies. All in a great big feather bed as John Denver sang about long before I was 25.
Here’s the tricky part. I’d be 25 — but have my 50 year old brain. I know, I know. Not really fair, but this is my show and that’s the way it would have to be for maximum fantasy enjoyment.
If I was just my 25-year-old self, I’d never appreciate the fullness of seeing my mom at 25. A year after she lost her first husband. Four years before he met my dad.
Come to think of it, that would be really odd for my mom. My sister and I would be daughters from a man she wouldn’t even know at the time?
This is exactly why I could never write SciFi.
But of course that is not the point. The adrift soul in me would just like to laugh and giggle with the ladies in my crew. And why not throw my 13 year old daughter Hannah Kate in the mix.
She’d be there at 25. Now that would be enlightening.
I’d love to see that we all were equally clueless, picking our way through life. How we felt we had already lived so much of life, but in reality we were just starting out.
For this to be a truly silly post, I’d photo shop a pic of all of us in bed in our 25-year-old prime. Can’t do that but maybe this is what we’d be wearing?
Figured my grandmother would have been 25 in the 1920s. We’ll have her as Carol Lombard.
Me mum would have been 25 in the 1940s.
My sister and I would have been 25 in the late 80s/1990.
I’d laze around all night holding my top cinched up on my hip like the gal in the slippers.
I’d introduce my homies to all the wonderful sleepover food that has been invented since 1930. That means a microwave and refrigerator would have to make the trip with us.
And so ends my first and last attempt to write anytime remotely to do with time travel.
Tell me something silly this Sunday.