My daughter, Renee, and I were recently discussing some of the sleepovers she had or went to in her younger years and pajama parties that I went to.

Sleepovers and pajama parties are one and the same, but somehow over the years the name changed. Maybe pajama was too restricting excluding the “nightie” wearers. Or maybe youngsters don’t do pajamas anymore. I really don’t know why the name change came about, but the games and foolishness are basically the same.

Now my grandsons are going to sleepovers and they aren’t even in their teens yet! I don’t remember way back in my day that boys had such gatherings. Maybe they just never talked about it around the girls. Renee said boy sleepovers were as common as girl sleepovers when she was a kid.

That got me to thinking what it would be like if the over-50 age group had sleepovers. That would certainly create an interesting twist to some of the old games we used to play as kids.

At all sleepovers there is always the who-can-stay-awake-the-longest competition. There were usually a couple of kids who managed to make it most of the night.

With the over-50 groups there might be a couple that would manage to make it until 10 p.m. I know I would be the life of the party until 8 p.m. After that I start running out of steam and definitely would not win that competition. Maybe with the golden age bunch the contest should be who can fall asleep the earliest?

Back in my younger days, falling asleep was a dangerous thing to do at these parties. The sleeping girl was a prime target for having a mustache drawn on with an eyebrow pencil. That’s not likely to be the case with the post-menopausal girls because the mustaches are already there. I suppose they could always resort to braiding armpit hair.

We used to chug-a-lug soda and see who could belch the loudest and longest. Yes, girls do belch. I guess with my age group it would be a chug-a-lug Mylanta or Muselex contest. Instead of a belching contest it could be who can sneeze without wetting their pants.

As youngsters just starting to develop, the progress of our chest size was always a subject of great conversation. Those girls who were growing at a faster rate than others were the source of great admiration by the slow blossomers. Sometimes tape measure tests were done to see who stretched the tape the most.

I think the post-menopausal ladies like myself might see who could hang the lowest. A grand prize could be awarded to the lady who can touch her knees. I have all I can do to touch my knees with my fingertips, never mind any other part of my anatomy. No prize for me.

One of the fun things we used to do was gossip about the girls that either didn’t make our “A” list or we didn’t make theirs. I know, it was sometimes cruel and catty, but that’s what teenage girls did and probably still do.

A topic of much speculation about the “other” girls was whose chest was enhanced with artificial materials, i.e. Kleenex. The older group could do the same gossip thing only the subject of false material would be guessing about the teeth. Whose dazzling smile is real and whose is porcelain?

It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to play any of the hiding games like we did as kids. We were always taking something like makeup or hair rollers and hiding them on their owner. Imagine how bad it would be to hide someone’s false teeth or hearing aid and then forget where you hid them!

I don’t know what the boys did at their sleepovers because I’ve never heard. I can only imagine, but I’m sure it involved stupid phone calls and obscene noises.

I remember the corner store near my house got a lot of do-you-have-Prince-Albert-in-the-can calls. I can just hear a bunch of old-timers playing this game. One would call a store and ask if Albert’s in the can, and the others would try to figure out if Al really is in the can or if he just fell asleep.

They could also play a guessing game of Where Did Our Butts Go. Have you ever noticed that the older a man gets the more his butt disappears? The same can’t be said for most of the women in the same age category.

I have a few years to go before I reach senior citizen status, but I’m well past the half-century mark, so the way I see it I’m quite qualified to imagine what adult sleepovers would be like. Or at least I think I can, but maybe I’ll have to sleep on it for a while.

Anyone up for a pajama party?