Gracie picked up a new mental health condition at her preschool field trip yesterday--a severe phobia of snakes (that she probably also inherited from her mom). Apparently, when asked if she wanted to hold the baby boa constrictor, she replied with an innocent, chipper "Yuh huh!" And she held the snake.
And the snake came home with her and multiplied into a million little snakes who now sleep under her covers. Or at least she thinks they do at midnight. 1:00 am. 1:15 am. 1:45 am. 2:15am. 2:30am. Until we finally had her sleeping in our bed with us (and no snake-infested covers), and with all the lights AND cartoons on. And it gets better.
During the same exact time as her last night terror scream, Blake slept walked in and pulled down his pants and PEED on our carpet. Michael jumped to his feet and hollered my name, to which I asked him to throw down a towel and I'd deal with it in the morning. But then Michael ran to the bathroom and PUKED in the sink with Gracie screaming and Blakey crying in the background! Cross my heart. (Michael's had some indigestion issues lately.)
It's times like this where I just want to pull the covers over my head and pretend I'm asleep, or unconscious, or dead. And that's exactly what I did.
WOW! You didn't tell me all of this...just thought you were up a few times! Hilarious when the sun comes up, huh?! You are always welcome on our sofabed...ha!
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