Every now and then, when the moon is in the seventh house and Jupiter aligns with Mars, peace will guide the planets, and love will steer the stars. It’s also the night hell freezes over and I get a night off.

By that, I mean that ol’ Sunnybuns is off to a friend’s house for a night of mirth and frivolity with no interruption from his parental units. He loves it, and so do we. Not that we love having him gone, you see, it’s more that we are very comfortable with where he’s gone to.

When the call came through to extend the invitation to him for a sleepover, I fainted. Dead away. Much like the same way I’m sure I’ll react when Ed McMahon finally does call.

I heard the voice on the other end of the phone asking loudly, “Are you there? Hello? Ellie? Are you there?”

I managed to flutter my eyes open and reach for the phone.

“Yeah...hold on...let me check my pulse...” I said, putting the phone back down on the floor and laying fingers across my carotid artery.

I climbed back up, aided by the handles on the lower cabinets, and retrieved the phone on the way.

“Sorry..sorry...did I hear you right? Did you say you wanted Sunnybuns to spend the night?”

“Yes! We’d love to have him come! If it’s okay with you, we’ll pick him up this afternoon around 4!”

I gleefully spun around the kitchen, clenching my fists and mouthing ‘YES!YES!YES!’ and said, “Oh, well that will be just fine. I’m sure he’ll be happy to go!”

I thanked the kind lady and closed my cell phone. Come on now y’all, sing it with me, “Halllll-ay-lou-yah!!”

I slowly made my way back down to the floor and found a clean spot to kiss.

“Thank you, Jesus...”. And I meant it.

My swirling world righted itself and I went in search of Hubs.

I followed the sound of a crowbar smacking against cement.

“Holy cow, Hubs! Sounds like a prison break goin’ on in here!”

Hubs stopped and wiped the sweat off his brow. He grinned and said, “Just diggin’ out the old bomb shelter!”

That’s our loving term for the fourth bedroom on the other side of the house. Trust me. There is a reason for that term.

“Whatcha need? Got a jar for me to open?” Always ready to switch gears, ol’ Hubs.

“No! But guess what?” I said with anticipation and excitement.

“What?” he said, equally excited. “Didja find my saws-all?”

“A wha...?”

“Saws-all! You know...” and he made the motion of someone jerkin’ around like a jackhammer out of control.

“No, no...not that! Sunnybuns has been invited to a sleepover!” I said, grinning wildly and clapping my hands together.

CRASH! The crowbar hit the floor. Chips of cement went flying.

Hubs fainted. Dead away. Much like the same way I’m sure he’ll react when the Jazz finally win the NBA championship.

I ran and grabbed an icy cold Coke out of the fridge and hurried back to the bomb shelter. I got down next to Hubs’ ear and flipped the top. KSHHHHH!

He popped up like Punxsutawney Phil. Had a sip of Coke and was right as rain.

“We get a night off?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah! Can you believe it? Isn’t it great?” I was just ripped full of enthusiasm.

“Oh man. This is so cool!” Hubs was just about as close to being elated as I’ve ever seen him. I hadn’t seen his face light up like that since he got his nail gun.

With my carcass still parked on the floor, and Hubs finally sitting up straight, I asked him, “So? What should we do?”
It was all just so...so...exciting.

He sat there for a minute and took a deep breath. He shook his head and smiled from ear to ear.

“I don’t know,” he said breathlessly, “what do you want to do?”

I felt like my teeth would fall out from grinning so hard.

I shrugged and said, “I don’t know either.”

The solution came after Sunnybuns was picked up and taken to the fete.

We settled comfortably in front of the TV with a cup of coffee and a slice of cheesecake. Hubs had a snooze, and I read a magazine.

Party animals never die. We just curl up in our recliners.

Ellen Lambert is a former Guyton resident and the mother of one child.