Two nights ago, the insomnia finally peaked. I was sleeping peacefully (for a change) and I was woken up. Yes, woken up. WOKEN UP! By forces who should have known better. I will tell the terrifying and awful and melodramatic story. Because I have to and I'm compelled. Also I need to blog about something.
I was sleeping. On the bed. (I don't usually sleep anywhere else but there is a recliner in the living room that isn't bad.) I do not know how but my butt was hanging off the side of the bed. (It's a psychological mystery. Maybe a physiological mystery.) It is, after all, a king-sized bed and we have plenty of room. (However, there are times when a fifteen pound cat and an eight-year-old girl can hog the holy living hell out of that king-sized bed. Another metaphysical mystery. Kind of like those moving rocks in Death Valley. Exactly the same thing.) (I told you randomness was involved. If you didn't believe me, then I'm sorry for you. Was that a pink duck playing pinochle with Fidel Castro? No, just my eyes. I totally need to see the eye doctor.)
Ass hanging off the bed. There ya go. Back on track.
|I know I misspelled a word. Maybe more. Oh, the hell with it.|
Since the kid had strep throat this weekend, I thought, "Cressy?" But I looked and there was no almost-about-to-puke-kid standing there, letting me know that she had bypassed one bucket and two bathrooms to inform me of her impending need to vomit. (This really does happen. Mommies everywhere know about this.)
Instead there was another pat-pat-pat and a "Mrrrw?" And being on the way to all-the-way-awake, I looked and saw this:
|Wouldn't you have screamed like a little girl|
if you'd seen this looming over the side
of your bed at 4 a.m.? Yes, yes, you