18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Saturday, November 1, 1913: Not much sleep came to my eyes this morning. Ma got me up at half past four to dry the dishes left from the party. I tell you it was quite a mess, but it was accomplished at last.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
If I could get in a time machine, I’d go back and reprimand Grandma’s mother:
I’d angrily scream, “What kind of mother are you? How dare you wake your daughter up at 4:30? The Halloween party made her the happiest she’s been in weeks—let her sleep and bask in the memories for a few hours.
But. . . maybe I’m being too hard on Grandma’s mother.
I told my daughter what I was going to write. She shrugged her shoulders and said, “Mothers are just like that. You’d have been mad if I’d left the house a mess after a party. You probably won’t have woken up at 4:30, so you won’t have known it was a mess until later, but you’d have made me clean it up.”