Hickersonization

“Mom! Can Sergio spend the night? Pleeeeaaaase! We promise not to wreck the upstairs!”
 

“Well . . . I guess that’s okay,” I answered, watching the boys’ faces light up. 
 

Jacob and Sergio had been together since 9:00 that morning. First pottery camp, then home for lunch, and then the pool. After several hours in the hot sun, we had all come back to the house. 

I thought the kids might be a little tired after all that swimming and diving, but they immediately dove into round after round of their favorite made-up game, “Taj Mahal”. To hear the kids explain the game, it sounds pretty elaborate and complex, but from my observations, the primary objective of the game is to run wildly around the house and then throw yourself as hard as you can onto the huge floor pillows in the attic playroom.
 

When they grew bored with “Taj Mahal,” the kids moved onto their second favorite made-up game, “Robbery.” To hear them explain it, the game sounds clever and complicated, but from my observations, the primary objective is to run wildly around the attic playroom, collect various plastic food items and then throw yourself as hard as you can onto the huge floor pillows.

In any event, it was fine with me for Sergio to spend the night, as long as his parents were okay with it.
 

Sergio seemed enthusiastic but his parents weren’t so sure. “I guess I’m fine with it too,” Sergio’s mom said hesitantly, “but let’s see how he’s doing in an hour.”
 

An hour later, we checked in with our friend Sergio. The transformation was remarkable. His eyes were glazed over, he was mumbling his words and he was wandering around in a zombie-like state. The boy was exhausted. Clearly, a sleepover was not in Sergio’s immediate future.
 

I looked at my own children. They were all actively engaged in various high-mess-quotient projects and talking incessantly, much like every moment of every day. I sighed and thought wistfully about how wonderful it would be if my kids were as exhausted as Sergio.
 

Sergio’s father calls it “being Hickersonized.” My children are immune to the condition but based on the comments I receive regularly from other parents, it is not that uncommon of a state for children who have spent a decent amount of time in our home.
 

Apparently, one becomes Hickersonized when one is subjected, for a prolonged period, to the constant aural, visual, physical and emotional stimulation that comes with having my four children, our menagerie of various furry creatures, and me, all together in the same place at the same time. 
 

Non-Hickerson persons tend to gravitate to the cacophony of sounds, colors and sensations that is our household. But evidence has shown that the excitement eventually leads to serious overstimulation which in turn, results in complete and utter exhaustion – the “I simply can’t take it anymore” phase, if you will. Sometimes it may take several days for the non-Hickerson to recover.
 

 It seems that the more our family becomes assimilated into the Chapel Hill culture, the more pervasive the state of Hickersonization becomes. We have been aware of the condition for some time, but just never really had a name for it. So to Sergio’s dad, who so brilliantly coined the phrase, we are grateful.
 

Now, instead of trying to read the external signs, which, though seemingly obvious, may be confused with other ailments, like, say, coma or impending death, I need only ask the child if he or she has been Hickersonized. If said child answers affirmatively, I know I need not worry. A simple call to the parents will do the trick. Removal, quiet and sleep is the cure.
 

There are still a few people around who haven’t grasped the full extent of the Hickerson energy. A few nights ago we met some friends to watch an outdoor movie. It was late for the kids. The movie wasn’t scheduled to start until after 9:00 pm and the running time was over 2 hours. Still, it’s summer, so I figured the late bedtime hour would be okay. But I was a little worried that the movie might be too scary.
 

“Oh well,” one of our friends shrugged, “they’ll probably fall asleep soon after the movie starts anyway.”
 

I looked at Jacob and Miles wrestling on the picnic blanket, just barely missing taking out a nearby high school girl and her boyfriend. Then I looked at Natalie and Emily, engaging in a loud, serious and disturbingly scientific discussion about whether the chocolate flower that Natalie was eating had more or less sugar content than the chocolate star that Emily was eating. I sighed.
 

“Pat,” I responded. “Have you ever heard of being Hickersonized?”