My Wake Up Call

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With luck there could be more of this around here.

“You know you slept for thirteen hours last night?” said Tracey.

“I didn’t sleep the whole time,” I assured her. “I’ve been awake for hours.”

I’d been feeling a bit off so I went to bed at 8pm and, because it was a Saturday, I stayed in bed until 9am. We can do that now because the kids have iPods and even the youngest has worked out how to open the fridge.

“You’ve been snoring!”

“Sometimes I breathe loudly.”

“Yeah, when you’re asleep.”

She then proceeded to tell me about her night, which was pretty much the same conversation we’ve been having most mornings for the last ten or eleven years. There was something about someone sleep walking and someone else having a bad dream. Then a couple of kids came in and slept in our bed for a bit.

“You must have noticed the two kids who’ve been sharing mainly my side of the bed since about 4am because ‘they don’t like the way Daddy’s pillow smells,'” Tracey quite frankly ranted.

But I suspect, from the stroppy delivery of what I missed during the night, my wife thinks now I’m going to be a Stay At Home Dad I should take on more of the night time grunt work.

Which I tried to explain is fine by me, but she wasn’t done yet.

She went on a little longer about kids levering off her boobs to shift position (unfortunately at my current weight I suspect I can sup for that these days) and kicking her in the kidneys: something Miss3 is particularly known for.

It was at this point I recalled something really poignant and, from my standpoint, important to this discussion.

“I got up!” I told Tracey as the memory flooded back of Miss3 complaining loudly in the dark. “I got up!” I was as surprised as Tracey was disbelieving. “Seriously,” I continued, “I got up about five in the morning and got her a dummy!”

Okay, so mainly I just needed to use the loo, but Yes!! I did this too!

Queue praise, I thought. Queue thanks, appreciation and maybe a little ‘sorry for being so harsh’.

Tracey went one better.

“Kids!” she yelled. “Grab something to bang and strike up the marching band!”

At least it would have been better if there wasn’t so much sarcasm involved…


 ~ raising a family on little more than laughs ~

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