August 4, 2012
Celebrating Midnight Day at Denny's
August 3 is Midnight Day. What? You didn't know it was a holiday? Well, it is. And all you have to do to celebrate is go to Denny's at midnight. No decorating. No gift giving. Just one crazy late-night meal.
Midnight Day was born one year ago yesterday. We flew to Salt Lake City, on our way to Montana, and arrived at our hotel only to find out that our reservation was for the previous night. The hotel was completely sold out and so was every single other hotel within 100 miles.
By the time we figured all this out, it was almost midnight and we all were hungry. The only thing open at that hour was Denny's. So we went, ate pancakes, eggs and hash browns, and then got on the road to drive to Idaho Falls, four hours away, where there was an available hotel room.
Kenna and Michal thought there wasn't anything better than being up at midnight eating chocolate chip pancakes. They thought it was so great that they decided we should celebrate this fantastic occasion annually.
We foolishly agreed. (It was nearly 1:00 a.m. and we were hopped up on maple syrup. We would have agreed to a stable of ponies and chocolate milk at every meal at that point.)
So on Friday night, the first anniversary of Midnight Day, we put the girls to bed and told them we'd wake them to go to Denny's.
Eric went to bed and I told him I'd wake him too.
By 11:30 p.m., after several hours of watching the Olympics, I decided I was too tired to go to Denny's and I instead went to bed.
Kenna and Michal woke up this morning and were so disappointed they'd slept through our very important celebration. I pointed out that since we were at Denny's after midnight on August 3, Midnight Day could also be celebrated on August 4.
Thankfully, they're really flexible and agreed to a new Midnight Day plan.
Now this is the part that you can never share with Michal and Kenna . . . . Eric and I moved the clocks forward two hours. We let the girls stay up late, just not as late as they thought they were staying up, and then, at 9:30, we told them that it was almost midnight and it was time to go.
They were both giddy and talking a mile a minute when we got to the restaurant. Michal, in animated detail, tried to explain to the waitress why we were there. She kept telling her how excited she was to be up past midnight. Our understandably-confused waitress graciously smiled and laughed and listened to Michal's lengthy description of our completely-made-up holiday.
We ate pancakes and eggs and hash browns and then headed back home to put the girls in bed.
It was after 1:00 a.m.
At least that's what they clock said. And that's how late two little people think they stayed up.
Happy Midnight Day.