Damn I'm tired. What time is it? 6:30am. I went to bed at 3am.
Writing that damn blog.
Why am I up? I'm not really up. I'm sitting here on the edge of the bed. Want to lay back down but I can't - he's there.
The little one - the boy. My son. In our bed. Again.
He's in the middle of the bed - sprawled out like the King of Siam. He has the nerve to snore. Roz has been pushed to the edge, her head is literally resting on the nightstand. If I lie back down he'll put his clawed feet into my kidney. I have to cut those toenails.
How did he get in our bed? Somebody broke the rule. I know who it was, but I'm not allowed to say.
If I try and put him back in his bed, he'll be up in 15 minutes. I'll just go sleep on the couch. If I can get up, but I can't. I'm just sitting here, staring into space. Wishing my bed were bigger, wishing Coleman were in his own bed, wishing I could turn back the clock to midnight, wishing I wasn't so tired.
"Juice Daddy, I want juice." I musta been wishing too loud.
The King of Siam is up.
2 comments:
LOL.
We get what we really really want and we get what we really really really don't want. All the universe knows is we're focused on it aka attracting it.
Any way Babies rule!
You're familiar with his cousin in LA
the Emperor Haile Zion Ali?
Post a Comment