Frozen bras and pillow fights

"I've never had sex in the shower," I said, and watched as Tiffany took a sip from her rock glass of whiskey.

Ernie seemed to think it over, but his drink never touched his lips, signifying he had also never made it in a shower. Heather simply looked over at me smirked, "Me either. My life sucks," but took a drink in the spirit of self-pity and assumed her position of laying face down in the middle of her floor.

Playing "I never" had been my idea, after we realized we had a bottle of something to drink, but were too bored to just sit and sip on it until we all passed out. Since becoming unemployed and even more frustrated with the job search, I decided I deserved a much needed break from my everyday life, and prepared myself for a week-long visit with my parents. During the day, my time is spent with my mom, dad, and grandma, but as soon as evening rolls around, I know that me, my sister and Heather will be scheming for something to get into.

Tiffany, Heather and I have jokingly referred to the last few nights we've spent together as a "week-long slumber party," since in a lot of ways we've been reliving experiences that haven't taken place since high school or junior high even. The three of us girls, along with the hunky friend/neighbor Ernie, have been getting together for rousing games of "Who would you rather do?" and "Truth or dare" in between rounds of alcohol and occasional marijuana smoke. It's not as if we have set out with clear intention on playing these games. It's more based on the fact that there really is not much else to do. What better way to pass the time then to let out the skeletons in your closet and eat the occasional piece of cat food? These games are a standard practice in terms of a good slumber party, only surpassed by the thrill of a good prank.

Two days ago, the girls and I arrived at Heather's place and were ready to plant ourselves into our usual spots on the couch, when Heather suggested that one of us go get Ernie.

"Let's scare him," Tiffany suggested. My sister is used to playing the role of the prankster, and never misses an opportunity to pounce on an easy target. "Heather, you go to that end of his house, and I'll go to the back. When I'm at the window, I'll make a sound and at my call, we will both start beating on the windows.

"You stay here," she told me, "for lookout purposes." Tiffany knows I've never been good at pranks because I screw almost all of them up by laughing, and when it comes to hiding out, I almost pee on myself every time out of excitement.

I watched as Heather and Tiffany went to their assigned spots. Ernie's yard was in dire need of a good lawn mowing, so the weeds were up around their knees in some spots. Any disappointment I had in participating in the prank was forgotten as visions of snake bites danced in my head. After a few minutes, both of them came running toward Heather's, cracking up.

"Out of my way, out of my way," Heather exclaimed, "I've gotta pee!"

Tiffany stopped to catch her breath. "We saw him," she said. "In the kitchen. He was walking into the kitchen. He was ...," She stopped to laugh again. "He was fucking sleep walking." Heather's giggles joined Tiff's.

"I swear to god he was," Tiffany finished.

"He really was," Heather agreed. "And when he walked into the kitchen, he opened the fridge and took out all this turkey and started cramming into his face." This time I lost it, and I started laughing so hard at their impression of him eating the turkey, I had to hold my sides.

Tiffany decided to go knock on Ernie's front door to see if he would mention the knocking, although we were sure he would assume it was us once he saw us. He greeted Tiffany at the door with a baseball bat and a very concerned look. He was defending himself, he explained and was relieved to see that it had probably just been us girls, messing with him. Tiffany, as usual, convinced him we had nothing to do with it, and that it was probably just a bat. Ernie, being far more blessed with looks than brains, bought into her explanation without casting a single doubt, and continued to peek out at his place through the rest of the night, just in case "the mystery knocker" returned.

My cousin Victoria recently wanted to watch an old home movie my grandma had recorded of my ninth birthday party and my sister's seventh birthday party. Watching the old movies made me nostalgic, naturally, and got me thinking of all the great birthday parties we had growing up. The best part, especially, were the slumber parties. We didn't just have them for our birthday, my parents often let us have a few girls over to spend the night with us, but the biggest ones always followed our birthday parties. We'd pile eight girls into my mom and dad's king-sized bed, all of sleeping against each other like a litter of kittens. There'd be girls sleeping in the room Tiffany and I shared, as well as my brother's room; girls sleeping in closets and camping out on floors. We would pile so many girls into my house, any spot available was game when it came to sleeping. If we even decided to sleep.

Our night were full of playing dress-up and Barbies, Truth or Dare, making brownies and popcorn and conducting séances, so sometimes sleeping just wasn't an option. One of the most memorable nights was when we attempted to contact Elvis. The girls and I all sat in a circle holding hands, and chanting what we thought was perfect babble for speaking with the dead. We were spooked silly, however, when my prankster sister decided to answer us in her best Elvis voice "Uh huh, pretty mama," and the girls scattered away like mice, screaming, it was the talk of our school for days after.

Sometimes, I let myself get so stressed out with my life. Jobs, the job search, career conflicts, managing a budget, searching for Mr. Right and struggling with debt are all frustrations that have been keeping me on edge for the largest part of my 20s. I don't want to be 14 again, but sometimes it feels so great to pretend that I am. I want to sneak to drink whiskey and make late night walks down the road. I want to have my hair braided and play pranks on the cutest guys within walking distance. I want to stay up 'til sunrise and sleep all day. I want my biggest stressors in life reduced to just two questions: Truth or Dare.

And that's exactly the kind of life I'm gonna have. At least, for four more days.

Tashina Savage will probably be making prank calls tonight. If you'd like to have her call you up, you can email her your number at sundaysgirl@gmail.com