And that sound is?

Probably my head hitting the keyboard as I am unexpectedly overcome by a frightful nap-taking disease. All of a sudden, just so darned sleepy that I fear I will have to go lie down on the piece of plywood under my drafting table.

Could be the VBS disease. Thankfully, tonight’s the last night. It’s fun for the kids, but it nearly wears me out—getting home at nearly ten every night this week will do that. And the kids are feeling it, too. Oh, they’re all wound up when they’re there, but they hit the bed like a hodful of bricks and it’s been nearly impossible to get them up every morning.

Yesterday morning I grabbed Catherine and started scootching her off of her bed and it was like pulling taffy. Got her to the edge and she just smooshed down into the floor in a big puddle, still sound asleep. Getting her dressed is even more fun—she (usually) has enough consciousness to pick her butt up off the bed so I can get her pants on, but the whole arm-through-the-armhole thing eludes her when she’s catatonic. It’s like trying to dress a dead giraffe.

Then it’s hair-brushing time, at which time she becomes fully enraged and awake. She has a head full of curly, thickly-grown (yet exceedingly fine) waist-length hair that is untangled exactly five minutes per week. The rest of the time it ties itself into knots. And causes her to yowl like a banshee until it’s subdued with a ponytail holder. The one with the flower. NO, the yellow one. NOT that one, the one with stripes. NO, that was yesterday’s. ::sigh::

Then it’s time for tooth brushing and Yowling, The Second Part as she decides she wants to go back to bed. Only a few weeks ago, I used to be able to bribe her with the promise of a Toothbrush Story, those being a variety of semi-lunatic tales revolving around the good dental hygiene of an assortment of characters. I sorta like doing these, and I thought she did too, but her distemper has put that aside for now.

“You want a Toothbrush Story, Cat?”

“NO! I wanna go to BEDDDDDdddddaaaaaAAAAHHHHH!!!”

“We could tell the one about Edgar the Blandly Named Wombat and His Unexpected Bout of Dental Caries…”

Head shake no.

“Kelly the Bunny Gets Flossed?”

No.

“KeeKee the Cat Bites Off More Than She Can Hack Up on the Carpet?”

“Why do you say those silly things like that, Daddy! I wanna go BED! And why are you sitting there on the potty with th’lid up and your clothes on?”

::sigh::

“Brush!”

Tears, toothpaste, water, scowl, spit.

“Okay now. You want to go downstairs and see the hummingbirds?”

That always gets her.

Thankfully, the others don’t require quite so much tending to.

Yes, I know.

“One day you’ll wish you had them to fuss over.”

I know, I know.

I just hope they decide to sleep late tomorrow.

See you all Monday!
posted by Terry at 4:07:00 PM