If you have kids you have to resign yourself to interrupted sleep. Last night, The Boy was teething and had thrown up earlier in the evening and was in a grumpy mood. Child Harbat was in a very good mood having stayed up late to start reading The Hobbit. By 11 The Boy had already woken up twice because he has the ears of an owl and the sensitivity of a seismograph. If you drop a tissue on the far side of the house you can count to three and hear screeching from his room. By midnight I thought all was well and could have a continuous stretch of deep restful sleep and didn’t just tumble about in mild delirium. NOPE! Child Harbat had a nightmare, a near-nightly occurrence these days. I am not discounting the nightmares, just her need to come climb in bed with us and squirm like she has St. Vitus’ Dance. This was at one AM. Then The Boy woke up at two and was coughing like a career smoker so I stumbled to his room and comforted him until he screamed louder, at which point my wife came and got him.
Sometimes our room at night is not a moonlit elfin glade but a bus station lobby. People are hurrying here and there, there is a persistent odor of urine, and someone is trying to sleep in a corner with a newspaper draped over their shoulders. How does my mood progress throughout the evening as I am not getting sleep? Please refer to this handy chart:
11pm I will comfort my children and guide them to slumberland
12 am Someone is crying so I will do what I can
1 am There is noise—I will something
2am Oh, COME ON!
3am KillBot 6000 has been activated—identify and eliminate noise disturbance
This is all a great shame because it should have been an ethereal blissful respite. The windows were cast open, letting in caresses of cool flower-scented evening air accompanied by the hush of wind in the leaves. By the fourth time I got up there was some critter crunching around in the leaves outside and a smell like pre-digested pina colada was seeping in the window. Then the alarm went off and all was lost.
But in the blog title I promised a scary bunny and you shan’t be disappointed. Before you pass judgment on this monstrosity please note that the face paint scheme is all per Child Harbat’s specifications. But learn from my mistakes: sometimes you need to interpret your child’s wishes so they look like a cute Easter Bunny and not a Dia de los Muertos celebrant or a Haitian witch doctor. So…maybe I should hold off on my cosmetology school application.
Writer, architect, father, husband.
Friggin hilarious!!!! Pb
Sent from my iPhone p brooks
Yeah–maybe put aside that application. She looks thrilled.