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Saturday, November 13, 2004

Slumber Parties and Injured husbands

It's 11:00 p.m. Friday night and the phone rings. Since the hubby has inexplicably injured his right shoulder, he is now incapable of answering the phone, refilling the ice water he gulped that was mine, or carry his 55 lb. son to our bed.

"I wanna come home," my daughter whines. After five minutes of ping ponging her choices, I slipped on my orange and black shower shoes. Thank goodness there are no Fashion Police where I live, otherwise me in Oreo and cloud flannel pajamas and flip flops would earn my the loser award for the year.

Now we have both children in the bed which doesn't go over well with my husband. Smart man that he is, he opts to sleep in the bunk bed upstairs, leaving me with these two donkey kicking, elbow jabbing karate imitators. There has to be a law of physics somewhere that explains why mothers always end up clinging onto the edge of a large bed while the children are sprawled out with room to spare. And just when you get comfortable, you know that warm coddle deep sleep offers, JAB, there's the bony elbow that once poked from inside of your stomach. SLAP, your face gets a wakeup call from your son's hand.
Maybe I'll take a nap today. I think I've earned it.

2 Comments:

  • I posted once to this but my comment seems to have been eaten by the Internet goblins - so forgive me, please, if this shows up twice.

    I know exactly how this feels! My graceful, delicate daughter is the worst of my "litter", making it impossible for anyone to share a bed with her! I absolutely loved your descriptions - creatively expressed and delightful to read!

    By Blogger Wendi Friend, at 11:16 AM  

  • When any of our kids tries to sleep in our bed, I beat them with pillows until they leave.

    By Blogger Phil, at 2:05 PM  

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