Currently, it is 12:26 AM and there is still plenty of light outside. Outside my window, I hear the occasional fourwheeler driving around and the constant BUMP BUMP BUMP of a basketball on the wooden court, about 20 feet from my window. As a result, I am conflicted by two thoughts:
1. "Wow, how cool is it that we live in a state with nearly perpetual sunlight and warm temperatures in the Spring and Summer months? I love that this community is so small and comfortable that it is late at night and kids are still allowed to drive around and play sports - hooray for spending time outdoors!"
2. "OH MY GOSH IT IS 12:26 AM WHY ARE THESE KIDS OUTSIDE? DON'T THEY KNOW THAT THEY HAVE SCHOOL TOMORROW? I SWEAR, IF THIS IS WHAT MY SOPHOMORES DO EVERY NIGHT BEFORE SCHOOL AND THIS IS WHY THEY SHOW UP TO SCHOOL AND COMPLAIN ABOUT HOW TIRED THEY ARE, THEN I AM GOING TO CRACK! HEY! YOU! WHERE ARE YOUR PARENTS? GET BACK HERE WHEN I'M TALKIN' TO YOU!"
Last night I heard voices as I got into bed at 11pm. I yelled across the hall, "Are you talking to me, Allie?" After I realized it wasn't her and not just in my head I then noticed the (little!) kids playing in the yard next to where we're staying. It does seem pretty surprising to see how bedtimes are culturally determined. I've always thought of them as a bit more biological in nature.
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