After lots of sentimental and mushy prayers, songs, hugs and night-night kisses, we shut their doors. As soon it is fully closed, “The Rhythm of the Night” by DeBarge immediately begins to play, which is accompanied by skipping through the house and awkward dance movements:
Bocephus opens his door again. DeBarge is overheard to say “I’m outta here”, which really dampens the festive atmosphere in the house. Because it is getting late and there are DVR’d shows to watch (Community!), Bocephus has left us no choice but to get out the Velcro pajama/sheet set. He is placed in his pajamas with soft bristles on the back and firmly placed on the now puffy sheets.
Bocephus falls asleep in spite of the Velcro pajama set. Charlie Pride continues to sleep. We watch Community. I act like Cinderella and clean up the house. I pray for mice and birds to appear out of nowhere to help me with the dishes and laundry, but…nothing. When I realize they really aren’t coming, I start getting an attitude like Cinderella has over here on the right.
After finishing up a quilt, doing 3,462 crunches, flossing and organizing my sock drawer, it’s time to go to sleep. Chris and I marvel at how, if our bed were made of snow, we could make snow angels in it with all the extra space. I then get lost in thought about how, if it were really made of snow, I would probably not fall asleep well and would wake up with missing toes. All of this nonsense swirling around in my head about snow in my bed makes me…drift…off….to…sleep……until…
Charlie Pride arrives with his big stuffed animal and says he has a bad dream. He gets in bed between us. No more snow angels. I am now trying to sleep while teetering off the bed. I imagine that if I take one wrong turn, the alligators that are surely swimming in my carpet down below will eat my face off. How will I meet my friends tomorrow for lunch in that condition? Before you start judging my mental competency, remember I am half asleep here…and then whole asleep….
Bocephus begins to cry from his Velcro bed. I jump out of bed and get one of my legs chomped off from that blasted alligator I had forgotten about. I decide my baby is worth it and hobble upstairs with blood spewing everywhere. I lament the fact that I will have to get all the walls repainted but continue to drag my bleeding stump to the second floor. I also decide that the Velcro was a bit inhumane. I change his clothes, lay him back in a normal bed and decide I should just sleep on the floor beside his bed. I don’t feel like dealing with those alligators downstairs again anyway. I would rather sleep on the hard, hard, hard floor and keep my baby content. I somehow sleep on something that feels much like the picture above for 2 1/2 hours.
Smoke alarm goes off due to wacked out batteries. Kids do not wake up. We wake up. We become grouchy. I hobble back downstairs, jump back over those alligators and climb back into bed with my husband and Charlie Pride…after moving CP back into the center of the bed. It is hard to go back to sleep as my hair now looks like this guy’s: