My husband invited the son of his best friend to stay a few nights with us. He was in town to check out grad schools and his accomodations fell through at the last minute so my darling hubby invited him to stay with us. This was at 8 pm and the "kid" was coming around 11. Some notice, please!
We have a small house, with no "real" guest room. The spare room is my office and though there's a pull-out sofa bed, we don't use it often so the sofa winds up as a "spare table" for my many papers, projects, and miscellaneous clutter. It's MY room and I don't give it up willingly.
And usually my husband is worse than me when it comes to sleep-over guests. (He actually wanted to buy a front door mat imprinted with "Go Away!" though I put the ki-bosh on that.) Truth be told, neither of us really likes overnight guests, but a kid should be able to call up his parent's friends for last-minute hospitality. It's in the rulebook. So after a few minutes of silent pouting, I did the NICE thing and went into my inner sanctum, put all my "sofa papers" in a box, unfolded the bed, put on fresh sheets, laid out clean towels, put out a few bottles of water along with the instructions on how to use the cable remote.
When Michael got here, I made him a snack of grilled cheese sandwiches. The next morning my husband made his famous waffles for breakfast and I was happy for Michael to join us for dinner that night. And the next. He turned out to be a really wonderful guest. A smart and sensitive young man who had similar interests so the conversation was fun. Great to be around that "anything's possible" energy of youth! And I was sad to see him leave. Who woulda thunk!?
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