I'm sure that was hilarious, but I'm immersed in my nighttime ritual of playing rounds of Scrabble on my phone while Kiddo #2 goes to bed, gets up, goes to bed, gets up, goes to bed, gets up, goes to bed... for anywhere from an hour to an hour and a half.
Yes, it takes me a long time to play anything on Scrabble.
Yes, I do suck at Scrabble.
No, you may not add me simply for the joy of kicking my ass.
At any rate, I was seated in the living room (which shares a wall with Kiddo #2's bedroom) playing frequently-interrupted-Scrabble when Husband returned from his game.
He crept quietly into the living room and silently mouthed the "Frick I need new cleats" thing because the house was deathly quiet. No, Sleeping Quiet. This is quite a feet when bedtime was a mere 20 minutes prior.
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| My husband has a dial on his neck. My son's dial is stuck on Nickleback. Boo-urns. |
He silently removed his cleats, but with every passing second of silence, I could see the glint of excitement in his eyes. No, not THAT "glint of excitement." Well, probably that one, but I ignore that particular glint. For reals, the excitement was due to Kiddo #2 clearly being asleep. Husband was excited that WE might be able to watch a TV show before 10pm.
After basking in the silence a few minutes more, Husband raised the volume of his voice from "Breathy" to "Funeral" and said, "He's asleep? He's not coming out of his room? How did you do that?"
I glanced up from my phone, looked him in the eyes and said, "Yes, I believe he is asleep. (pause) No, I do not believe he will be coming out of his room again tonight."
Husband: Why are you speaking like a Sphynx?
Me: Because you will never believe what happened.
Husband: Does it involve a Sphynx?
Me: No.
Husband: Aliens?
Me: No.
Husband: Does it involve bribery of any sort?
Me: (thinking) No. Maybe.
Husband: Is there a unicorn or pteradactyl involved?
Me: (thinking) No. (thinking) No. But, here's how the night went down...
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| Kiddo #1 sleeps like magic awesomness covered in rainbows. |
I did the usual crap getting the kids ready and into bed the first time. Kiddo #1 always goes to bed without a fuss and is sleeping/out cold within 2 minutes of her head hitting the pillow. It's like magic awesomeness covered in rainbows. And then there's the other side to our genetic coin: Kiddo #2.
Sensing Kiddo #2 was feeling naughty, I tucked him into bed and said, "The first time you get out of bed, you lose your ball. The second time, you lose Poochie. Dig it?"
Haha. No, I'm not threatening to castrate my son for leaving his bed. Tonight he wanted to bring a soccer ball with him to sleep and, frankly, if it keeps him in bed, I'd let him bring a full-on horse and wagon. I was merely saying first I'll take his soccer ball and second, Poochie.
He, within 35 seconds of my leaving, was up cavorting in the living room. I took the ball and put it on the mantle. I returned him to his bed. Within 10 seconds (wailing about his lost ball) he returned to the living room where I took Poochie, put him on the mantle, and returned Kiddo #2 to his bed.
He, with nothing left to lose, began a revolving door act that would make Scooby Doo look like an amateur. I didn't think through the whole "nothing left to lose" part or I might not have been so hasty with the removal of The Pooch.
Meh. You win some you lose some, right?
Here's where things got interesting though: smack dab in the middle of one of my many games of Scrabble (I play with a girlfriend from Colorado. I think it makes her feel good to know she's kicking an English Teacher's hiney, but I digress.), with Kiddo #2 wailing, sobbing and generally acting like Natalie Wood in any of her films, out stormed Kiddo #1 from her bedroom.
Looking suspiciously like a TV lawyer in her pencil skirt, stiletto heels and hair done up in a neat and tidy bun, Kiddo #1 took her reading glasses off her face and gestured wildly toward the fireplace mantle where the dog and ball were sitting. Smugly, I looked at Kiddo #2. Kiddo #1 was here to read him the riot act. Ha ha ha, little crappy won't-go-to-bed Kid. My unicorn sleeper is gonna tear a strip off you now. I wish I could say I feel sorry for him, but really, I'm secretly glad he's pushed her over the edge because maybe she can get him to do what I can't seem to.
Kiddo #1: Listen! If you don't stop being so naughty and acting so bad, YOU. (pause) Are Getting a time out. Your "acting bad" stuff is getting old. Seriously. (pause) Seriously. (pause) YOU, are going to give back Poochie and his ball. He needs those to sleep! AND, YOU are being NAUGHTY taking them from him. So you GIVE them BACK or I will yell and SCARE you and I will be forced to... to. Tell.
Me: Are you talking to me? (confused)
Kiddo #1: Yes! Taking Poochie went too far. Too far, Momma. That is rude and hurts his feelings.
Me: Are you seriously talking to ME? (incredulous)
Kiddo #1: Yes I said. YOU.
Me: And who, exactly, were you going to Tell?
Kiddo #1: (looking and blinking, clearly trying to figure out who she would tell on me to) Well. Yes. I would tell... Daddy.
Me: Well, Daddy would do the same thing I'm doing because Kiddo #2 needs to learn to stay in his bed.
Kiddo #2 takes this moment to wail loudly and hit his hand against the carpet in dispair. Next week he will be filling in for Dr. Drake Ramorez on Days of Our Lives, if you would like to see even more over-acting.
Kiddo #1: Yes. (pause) I see. Well, this is inappropriate. He can't sleep without Poochie. So you are keeping him from sleeping. If he can't sleep, do you really think he's going to stay in his bed?
I shit you not, that is what she logically came up with. I wish I had that kind of reasoning power.
Me: Uh. Um?
Kiddo #1: So you are setting him up. He isn't going go to bed and stay there. And that is mean, and rude. And you are doing naughty things so if you keep it up, Time Out! You have to Give Him His Poochie BACK. Tonight! Right NOW! He always has to have Poochie and Never, ever to take him AGAIN!
And she stormed back to her room and slammed the door.
And I stormed off to her room and opened the door like Storm from X-Men.
Stormy storm storm (I feel like I didn't say storm enough in those first two sentences, so I added some just now for effect) She, startled, panicked and began scream-crying about how that was mean and Puh-puh-poochie needs to go back to Kiddo #2.
Honestly, I was stuck between trying not to laugh my damn head off at her compelling case and trying not to cry because she was coming to the aid of her brother who was being relentlessly threatened by outside agencies (to her wee eyes, anyway).
Once she'd calmed down, the two of us went back out to the living room where Kiddo #2 had put two step stools on top of each other trying to reach the top of the mantle.
Good Lord. Pray for me.
I stood there, silently wondering what my brain was going to come up with to get out of this mess when my mouth took over and starting saying shit without even CONSULTING with my grey matter.
My mouth: Ok. Well. Ok. Kiddo #2. Your sister has successfully argued Poochie back into your arms.
My brain: WTF?
My mouth: She saved him. This time.
My brain: Seriously? STFU.
My mouth: But her excellent arguing skills will NOT save Poochie if you leave your room again tonight.
My brain: Where are you headed, Judge Judy, cuz it sounds pretty damn lame from here.
My mouth: Take Poochie and go to your bed. Know that if I hear so much as a peep from your room, a peep from your room, Poochie goes on the mantle all night long, no exceptions!
My brain: So ... nothing changed and we're starting this stupid shit all over again? Nice work, Mouth.
Kiddo #2, sobbing into his newly restored Poochie glanced at me sideways, stood up and ran to his sister sobbing Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou while she hugged him. Honestly I think Kiddo #2 officially out-acted Natalie Wood with that and is now in Liza Minelli territory; my drama king settled down and walked himself directly to bed. 12 minutes later, into the house walked Husband.
So, to answer your question, Husband, Yes, I think he's asleep. No, I had nothing to do with it. Our daughter successfully negotiated for the return of Poochie which resulted in this outcome.
Tomorrow she will be going with me to get a new cell phone contract that is less expensive, more reliable and will give me a free phone upgrade every time Apple comes out with a new product. Oh, and a back rub every Thursday.
What have YOUR kids done for you lately?
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