I had a rough night with Luke last night, and as a result I didn’t get much sleep. Brantley and I are alternating sleeping in Luke’s bed with him while we’re on vacation, and he struggles through a little nightmare phase. If a million reasons just popped into your head on why this is a bad idea, just keep it to yourself because we each get a good night sleep every other night. All was well until 4:30 this morning when I started feeling a tap tap tapping on my shoulder.
“Hey Mom, it’s me, Wucas. I need a snack.”
“Go back to sleep,” I mustered through gritted teeth.
“But I’m so hawngry. It’s morning time.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Mom, you be kiddin’ me.”
This went on for quite some time before I finally turned on Tom and Jerry to pacify him before going back to sleep. I have no idea how much time passed, but some time later I heard Brantley’s thunderous footsteps coming down the hall. Luke greeted him sweetly with, “Good morning, Dad. Mom won’t wake up and it’s morning time.”
I could hear Brantley make his way toward me. I pulled the covers off of my head with my standard growl and hiss. (It’s imperative that I exert my dominance early on in the day, otherwise Brantley spends a whole day feeling drunk with power.)
“I brought you something,” he said.
There before me was a pancake and bacon breakfast with a cup of coffee. This was an especially sweet gesture considering Brantley version 2.0 doesn’t eat pancakes or drink coffee. He had done it all for me. I was almost speechless. All I could think to say was, “I’m sorry for cussing at you in my head.”
Now, I’m not one to jump to conclusions, and I certainly don’t want to jinx anything, but after eight years together I’m starting to think this marriage just may work.
|With a new train and giant lollipop it’s obvious who is REALLY drunk with power.|