A Little Background on Yesterday's Lamest-Ever Post
Got home from poker just before 1 a.m. Sunday. The Kitty and I were fumbling about in the dark bringing in tabletops and felts and stuff. I set the felt tops down, forgetting that one was taller than the other, and listened to dismay as first the shorter felt thunked loudly on the floor and then Baby Dog began to cry in the next room. Though it had been no fault of his, the Kitty apologised. “No big deal,” I said, “she’s probably not really awake.”
Unfortunately, before I could pick the baby up I had to first wash my hands and for some reason thought I had to get the detritus into the back hall. I guess I thought she’d quickly stop crying on her own. She didn’t, and by the time I got into her room, Mama Dog was wide awake as well and Daddy was in dutch. Baby Dog was sitting up in the crib in her sleep sack, crying away. I picked her up and shushed her and sang to her. Sure enough, she wasn’t really awake, and was soon back to peaceful sleep. Mummy and Daddy were a different story. We lay awake, unable to relax. And of course, in the morning, Baby Dog woke up at a time beginning with 6. Closer to 7 than to 6, yeah, but still beginning with 6.
We were ill-tempered zombies all day Sunday. On thing we got right, though; we went to Picante for supper around 5 in the p.m. It was completely uncrowded and we were able to be in and out – including feeding the child – in less than half an hour. Even though it took us stops at two different grocery stores on the way home to find my ice cream, we managed to have everything done – baby bathed, dog walked and fed, baby lulled to sleep, dishes away – by 8 p.m. By 10 I had made my lame blog post and we were ready to make up for the previous night’s sleep deficit.
Tonight’s been non-stop busy-ness since I got home, and I’m feeling totally wrecked. Looking forward to the extra forty minutes or so of sleep we usually get on Wednesday mornings.
Unfortunately, before I could pick the baby up I had to first wash my hands and for some reason thought I had to get the detritus into the back hall. I guess I thought she’d quickly stop crying on her own. She didn’t, and by the time I got into her room, Mama Dog was wide awake as well and Daddy was in dutch. Baby Dog was sitting up in the crib in her sleep sack, crying away. I picked her up and shushed her and sang to her. Sure enough, she wasn’t really awake, and was soon back to peaceful sleep. Mummy and Daddy were a different story. We lay awake, unable to relax. And of course, in the morning, Baby Dog woke up at a time beginning with 6. Closer to 7 than to 6, yeah, but still beginning with 6.
We were ill-tempered zombies all day Sunday. On thing we got right, though; we went to Picante for supper around 5 in the p.m. It was completely uncrowded and we were able to be in and out – including feeding the child – in less than half an hour. Even though it took us stops at two different grocery stores on the way home to find my ice cream, we managed to have everything done – baby bathed, dog walked and fed, baby lulled to sleep, dishes away – by 8 p.m. By 10 I had made my lame blog post and we were ready to make up for the previous night’s sleep deficit.
Tonight’s been non-stop busy-ness since I got home, and I’m feeling totally wrecked. Looking forward to the extra forty minutes or so of sleep we usually get on Wednesday mornings.
posted by PapaDogDuvalier | 9:47 PM
1 Comments:
Hey, at least it was memorable!
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