"3 a.m." is the title of at least three indie rock songs I've heard--all ballads referring to intriguing or mournful adult ways to spend those early pre-dawn hours.
Last night at 3a.m., I was feeling rather mournful, because rather than doing anything intriguingly adult (like SLEEPING!?!), I was blow drying my three-year-old son's hair.
Why?
Because wet hair was making his pillow wet, so he couldn't sleep.
Why?
Because he had just taken a shower.
Why?
Because his daddy made me give him one.
Why?
Because his daddy thinks a torn ACL and miniscus rightfully removes him from all middle-of-the-night parenting duties. (Okay, so it does.)
But why do I have to take a shower, Mommy?
Because Blake had wet his pants. But he was naked when he woke us up, and the wet pants were nowhere to be found!
Why?
I don't know why! We looked everywhere and we couldn't find them!
Why?
Because!!
After searching the entire house with Blake to find the sleepily abandoned soaking wet pee pants, Blake looked up at me and in his cute little manly voice said,
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
What?
"They're gone."
Why, Blake, why?
A few months ago we were watching a friend's kids while they were on a cruise. One evening as I was getting the little boy ready for bed I realized he had no underwear on. I specifically remember putting them on him that morning. When I questioned him he had no idea where he put them. I found them two days later under one of the beds. Yippee Skippy. Kids!
ReplyDelete