Just when you feel like a real live grown up, your grandmother sits in her living room waiting for you to get home. You have been out too late. It is 12:45 AM.
I went to Groesbeck, TX this weekend for homecoming and stayed with my grandmother- a long time resident. I lived and went to school as a Groesbeck goat from 3rd-6th grade and still think of it as my hometown, of sorts. If you have not experienced a small town homecoming, you have no idea what a big deal they are. First, of course, there is the football game on Friday night. The entire town is there and it a cacophony of old men yelling at the coaches and/or referees, giggling teenagers and jingling bells from the multitude of gigantic mums. Then, Saturday morning is the homecoming parade in which each class from the high school, yes THE high school, hosts a float as do many area businesses. The whole main strip is shut down for the vintage cars, floats, trailers, horses, etc. Then on to the Groesbeck Exes Association BBQ lunch. That is usually it for me, but this year, I was invited to the Groesbeck Class of 1994 15-year class reunion. I moved away just before 7th grade, but spent four intense years with these guys and through the miracle of Facebook, have become reacquainted. I went to my first official "Pasture Party" (I have the camouflage "Goats '94" koozie to prove it) and had a grand ole time until about 12:02 (2 minutes after I had planned to be home) when I get a text from my sister who is at Nana's house.
"Nana is waiting up on u. I told her u were still there and she said u just had 2 come home because it is so late"
Now, I had a midnight curfew back when I was 17, but that was about, oh, I don't know, sixteen years ago! It's not like I party all night every weekend, but when I do go out, I usually manage to stick it out til about 3 AM or so- especially when I am hanging out with people I haven't seen since I was 12. But how do you explain to the sweetest old lady in the world why anyone would want to stay out past 12 when she is sitting in her recliner, in her rollers and no dentures, stiff with worry because some guy was once killed in a car wreck near the street I was on. So, grumbling, I said my goodbyes and headed to the car to drive the 4 minutes from the party to Nana's house. An old buddy came running to the car to let me know where everyone was heading to for the next "phase" of the evening and to say how glad she was that I came. Talk about adding insult to injury. I didn't want to leave that party, much less miss out on a whole new location!
But maybe it was good. I am always the last to leave a party and take the chance of wearing out my welcome. This time, thanks to Nana, maybe I left them wanting more.
