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Jan. 22nd, 2010 10:30 am
Third time's a bitch and a half
The first time it was suggested I spend the night at my sister's, I readily agreed but resigned myself to a sleepless night. After all, I'd be taking the bottom bunk in the boys' room. How much sleeping could actually occur under those conditions?
Turns out it was a better night's sleep than on my mother's lumpy futon. By the time I hit the hay the boys were completely gone; when I awoke, I found that they'd slipped out of bed and down the stairs without my even noticing--unheard of given what a light sleeper I am. So when it was suggested that I spend another night, I readily agreed.
This visit was a friendly ambush for my mother. Sis picked me up from the airport yesterday and we snuck in while Mom was lunching. Sis gathered up the clothes out of the bathtub while I tossed out three year-old yoghurt from the fridge. But the futon had become an exploded filing cabinet, so rather than force my mom to tidy up on her birthday, I crashed at my sister's again.
All was well until I snuck out to pee six hours after turning in and found the eldest awake. His roused his brother ECI, who took his turn after me and then crawled alongside me in the lower bunk. He was asleep almost instantly and I had five lovely minutes of warmth and peace. Then AWI returned.
He clambered up asked where his brother was; I had to tell him three times ECI had moved down the the lower bunk. He jumped around up there. Then he crawled into bed beside us and spazzed out until he woke up his brother. At first I thought he was just struggling to get comfortable, but when I heard ECI say, "AWI, stop tickling me!" I knew something was up.
I told him several times to lie still or get out of the bed and go downstairs. He left--and then came back with a flashlight to shine in our faces. To drive him from the room, I had to whip out the nuclear option (i.e. "I'ma tell yo momma"). It worked, but by now, any hopes of getting another decent couple of hours were completely dashed.
I never thought I'd say it, but that lumpy futon is starting to look surprisingly good.
Turns out it was a better night's sleep than on my mother's lumpy futon. By the time I hit the hay the boys were completely gone; when I awoke, I found that they'd slipped out of bed and down the stairs without my even noticing--unheard of given what a light sleeper I am. So when it was suggested that I spend another night, I readily agreed.
This visit was a friendly ambush for my mother. Sis picked me up from the airport yesterday and we snuck in while Mom was lunching. Sis gathered up the clothes out of the bathtub while I tossed out three year-old yoghurt from the fridge. But the futon had become an exploded filing cabinet, so rather than force my mom to tidy up on her birthday, I crashed at my sister's again.
All was well until I snuck out to pee six hours after turning in and found the eldest awake. His roused his brother ECI, who took his turn after me and then crawled alongside me in the lower bunk. He was asleep almost instantly and I had five lovely minutes of warmth and peace. Then AWI returned.
He clambered up asked where his brother was; I had to tell him three times ECI had moved down the the lower bunk. He jumped around up there. Then he crawled into bed beside us and spazzed out until he woke up his brother. At first I thought he was just struggling to get comfortable, but when I heard ECI say, "AWI, stop tickling me!" I knew something was up.
I told him several times to lie still or get out of the bed and go downstairs. He left--and then came back with a flashlight to shine in our faces. To drive him from the room, I had to whip out the nuclear option (i.e. "I'ma tell yo momma"). It worked, but by now, any hopes of getting another decent couple of hours were completely dashed.
I never thought I'd say it, but that lumpy futon is starting to look surprisingly good.