Friday, March 23, 2001


This, Dear Reader, is the weekend of Rulizow's birthday party. She has been anticipating it for over a month. She designed her own invitations, which Baslow obligingly printed out for her. She conducted several shopping trips to pick out just the right party favors. She has talked, sung, and dreamed about this party endlessly.

It begins tomorrow afternoon.

It will be a sleepover party. Six of her closest friends will bring their sleeping bags and camp out on the Baslow family living room floor. That's seven 10- and 11-year-old girls. In one small living room. In one small apartment.

Any combination of two, or even three, of these girls at a time are a fine, charming group of children. Seven, is another matter. Giggling. Gossiping. Watching videos.

Staying overnight.


Do you sense, Dear Reader, Baslow's trepidation?

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