Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Bedtime: His n Hers

We like to stay up late here on the Funny Farm. It's a bad habit, I know. Especially when the man of the house has to get up at 5:30 to beat the traffic on his 58 mile commute.

So last night, I suggested that he and I go to bed early. It was 9pm. We both had a few things to finish up before the evening was done, and I winked at him and said, "I'll meet you in the bedroom at 9:30." He grinned, arched his eyebrows, and said, "awright!"

So I headed toward the kitchen.

"Mom! These new speakers won't work!"

So I spent a few minutes troubleshooting (successfully, I might add) the computer speakers.

Passing through the family room, I stopped to watch a couple minutes of "John and Kate Plus 8" show with Megan before sending her to get pajamas on.

Then I climbed up to the kitchen, where I remembered that I had to find some way to fit 10 pounds of strawberries in my already full fridge. Upon opening the fridge, I saw the two cut up chickens that I had processed the day before, which had been "aging" before being put in the freezer. To my dismay, the vacuum seal had been compromised by liquid, and so it wasn't completely sealed. So I dug out the vacuum sealer and re-sealed the chicken then put it in the freezer. I then employed some creative refrigerator shuffling to fit the insane quantities of strawberries inside, then did a few dishes, then fed the sourdough starter, then took my vitamins, anti-inflammatory medicine, shark cartilage, and glucosamine, straightened my truly frightening mess of a kitchen so the wind wouldn't blow papers all over the house, then opened some windows, then headed back downstairs. Once at the bottom I remembered the icepack for my knee, so back up I went to get it out of the freezer. At that moment the cat began to climb up the screen door, which is Siamese for "FEED ME NOW!" so I opened the back door to let her into the garage, and remembered that I needed to run a sprinkler on a particularly dry spot on the lawn. Then I fed the cat, and quickly dashed down the stairs before I saw something else that needed doing.

I arrived in our room at 9:45. Tom was already in bed, reading while he waited for me. I asked if he had happened to say prayers with Megan. Nope. So I went and got her out of her room and got her teeth brushed and bathroom needs taken care of, heard her prayers, hugged and kissed and tucked her in. Then I went into the bathroom for my own nighttime ritual. Finally, all that was left to do was use the toilet. And to my surprise and joy, the toilet was clogged. Singing songs of praise, I skipped back upstairs to find the plunger and went back to my favorite hobby: unplugging the toilet after its contents had fermented for several hours. Finally - FINALLY it glugged down, and I figured I might as well clean it while I was standing there, so in squirted the toilet bowl cleaner, swish swish went the brush, and down it flushed.

I opened the door to the bedroom, and my eyes met darkness. Tom had turned off the light and gone to sleep. It was just after 10pm. The romance would have to wait for at least another day.

Just then I heard Karianne get home from work; she came downstairs to let us know she was home, and we talked quietly for a few minutes about work. I climbed into bed and put the ice pack on my knee and laid there, waiting for sleep that wouldn't come. I gradually became aware of an odd sound, almost like the wind whistling through the window, except the window wasn't open. I got up to investigate, and discovered the sound was Megan crying. She couldn't go to sleep, she said. Why was that something to cry about, I wondered? So we talked for a minute, and she said she had a headache, and I got her some tylenol and a drink of water, and soon she began to sound sleepy, so I kissed her one more time and climbed back into my own bed and looked at the clock.

It read 11:00 pm. Sigh. At least Tom got to bed earlier than usual.

2 comments:

Karianne said...

Okay I was really really really surprised that everyone was in bed when I came home at 10. At least you didn't lock the door on me this time... Also that is funny because I heard that exact sound and I couldn't figure out what was going on. But I that's exactly what I thought it was too. Does megan know she sounds like a whistly window when she cries?

jen said...

Dave calls it the "Starving Chicken" syndrome. Then proceeds to tell the story of a farmer that goes out to feed the chickens and ends up doing a ton of other things in the farm yard and forgets to feed the chickens so they starve to death. We always laugh because it is horribly hereditary in my family. The women in my family have burned things, flooded things, forgotten things, you name it. At least yours was all productive!!!