Aug
17
8:15 PM, bedtime
Me: “Okay pookie, night night. Now remember, no—”
Dylan: “CWYING!”
Me: “Right. Just—”
Dylan: (delighted) “SWEEPING!”
Me: “Exactly! No crying tonight, just sleeping. Okay? Okay. I love you, sweetie.”
8:49 PM
Dylan: “LA LA LA LA WE ALL LIVE IN A WELLOW SUBMAWINE . . . . LAAAAAAAAAAAA!”
Me: “Dylan. Shhhh. Riley’s sleeping. It’s night night time, remember?”
Dylan: “Just SWEEPING!”
Me: “GoodNIGHT.”
9:12 PM
Dylan: (incoherent yelling)
Me: “Hey, hey hey hey! What’s going on in here?”
Dylan: “Uhhh. I don’ know!”
Me: “Okay, come here. Listen, you. It’s bedtime. You need to close your eyes, okay? Think of something nice.”
Dylan: “Like CHICKENS!”
Me: “Oookay. Sure, like chickens.”
Dylan: “An’ a horse. An’ a COW. An’ a BUFFALO. An’ . . . an’ a coyote.”
Me: “Right. Sure. You think about coyotes.”
Dylan: “Where COYOTE go? Dat coyote RAN OFF! He’s inna WOODS!”
Me: “Yep. Probably sleeping.”
Dylan: (indignant) “No! He’s eating GWASS!”
Me: “GOODNIGHT.”
9:38 PM
Dylan: (standing up in crib, peering around room)
Me: “Dylan, did you poop?”
Dylan: (slyly, waggling eyebrows) “Yeaaaaah!
Me: (sniffing) “You did not. Now go. To. Sleep.”
9:45 – 2 AM
Blissful silence
2:12 AM
Dylan: (incoherent shrieking)
Me: “Mmmfff. Dylnn. Wassa. Plz gobackto. Sleep.”
Dylan: (chirpy) “Okay!”
3:45 AM, 5:12 AM
Repeat of above
6:00 AM
Dylan: “EHHHHHHHHHH. EHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. EHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.”
Me: “?!?!?!”
Dylan: “I got a LEAFBLOWER!”
Me: “WHAT? IT’S NOT TIME TO GET UP YET. GO BACK TO SLEEP. OH MY ACHING GOD, KID.”
7:15 AM
Dylan: “Hi Mommy! Wake up now? Wake up?
Me: “Dylan. We can’t keep on like this. You have to start sleeping better. DYLAN. SERIOUSLY. ARE YOU LISTENING TO—”
Dylan: (bouncing happily) “Just SWEEPING! Iss okay Mommy. Shhhh! I’m lookin for COYOTES. An’ horses, an’ buffalo, an’ . . . an’ CHICKENS.”
Aug
16
I was in a neighborhood Walgreens the other day and there it was, an entire half-aisle of autumn decorations. Thanksgiving items, to be specific. Leaf-themed votive candles and pilgrim-shaped salt and pepper shakers and turkeys and bulging horns-a-plenty.
I did not, in fact, drop to my knees and release a window-shattering howl of despair, but I can assure you that the only reason I resisted this action is because I’ve seen those Walgreens floors. No human knee or other uncovered body part should ever encounter its MRSA-laden surface.
Still. I kind of hope whoever’s in charge of their merchandising schedule gets a pumpkin rammed up their ass this fall. Screw you, drugstore seasonal display, it’s still summer and it’s going to STAY summer until I goddamned well say it’s not.
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