Performing for an Audience
Dear DragonMonkey,
Mornings are nice, aren't they?
Your daddy and I think so, too. Sometimes, mornings can be very, very nice.
Anyways, I have a little favor to ask:
The next time you wake up super early, can you make a little more noise? I appreciate that you are trying to be quiet so you don't wake The Squid up, but once you're downstairs can you.... I dunno... announce your presence a little louder?
Sometimes when I, uh, hug your Dada, I get a little distracted and I don't always notice you opening the door to my bedroom.
It has come to my attention that I also don't notice it when you cross the room and climb up onto our extra big king-size bed. What can I say? Sometimes your Dada can be very distracting, indeed.
So, to help your poor old Mama out, can you please, please, pretty please make a little more noise?
It's a little disconcerting to be in the middle of, uh, hugging, only to see something out of the corner of my eye, turn my head sideways, and see you a little over a foot away from my pillow, staring silently with wide eyes.
Actually, scratch that. It's not disconcerting. It's creepy. It's creepy as heck, and I'm pretty sure that image is going to be burned in my head for the rest of my life. To be honest, I'm not sure who needs more psychological help at this point - you or me.
It really didn't help that you've taken to sleeping in your underwear - you looked like the world's tiniest little pervert, kneeling there in your skivvies, silently watching us.
Please, kid, for the love of all that is holy - please, just make a little more noise?
Love,
Your traumatized mother
Mornings are nice, aren't they?
Your daddy and I think so, too. Sometimes, mornings can be very, very nice.
Anyways, I have a little favor to ask:
The next time you wake up super early, can you make a little more noise? I appreciate that you are trying to be quiet so you don't wake The Squid up, but once you're downstairs can you.... I dunno... announce your presence a little louder?
Sometimes when I, uh, hug your Dada, I get a little distracted and I don't always notice you opening the door to my bedroom.
It has come to my attention that I also don't notice it when you cross the room and climb up onto our extra big king-size bed. What can I say? Sometimes your Dada can be very distracting, indeed.
So, to help your poor old Mama out, can you please, please, pretty please make a little more noise?
It's a little disconcerting to be in the middle of, uh, hugging, only to see something out of the corner of my eye, turn my head sideways, and see you a little over a foot away from my pillow, staring silently with wide eyes.
Actually, scratch that. It's not disconcerting. It's creepy. It's creepy as heck, and I'm pretty sure that image is going to be burned in my head for the rest of my life. To be honest, I'm not sure who needs more psychological help at this point - you or me.
It really didn't help that you've taken to sleeping in your underwear - you looked like the world's tiniest little pervert, kneeling there in your skivvies, silently watching us.
Please, kid, for the love of all that is holy - please, just make a little more noise?
Love,
Your traumatized mother
Labels: Embarrassing Stories, Kids, Married Life
posted by Becky at
11:20 AM
13 Comments:
Oh good god. I'm sending you both oft to have your memories wipes. You'll feel a little electric jolt, but then it will all be over. x
Hi Becky!!!
Gurl, I'm dying here! Hilarious!
BWHAHAHA!!! Hilarious, you are killing me!
I hear you. Amy moves absolutely silently and it's creepy sometimes.
Also, hahaha. Ner ner.
Ta-dahhhhhhh!
Once again I will NOT be fired for laughing uncontrollably at your blog while sitting at the reference desk of the library because I READ THIS AT HOME!!!!
I'm onto your tricks, you big doof.
Too funny...and one of my pet fears. We've had some close calls--I bet all parents have. And ya know, if this is trauma, most humans must be traumatized (no wonder we have so many shrinks). Great post.
Hahahaha.... busted!
Ha! What a great way to tell that story. Good luck to you and your husband getting over that one!
A similar experience is the reason for not one but TWO locks between my children's rooms and my bed. My little monster, er ... boy, likes to crawl into our bed anywhere between 10 and 4. Locks are important for parents who want to "hug" at any time of the day! :-)
Paybacks.....
Yep. Lock your door. My parents locked theirs... I turned out ok.
Wait, maybe I didn't... uh, you're screwed.
Good luck with all that.
I told you, put bells on the door, like you'd use to house train a dog. Just put them on DM's door, so you hear when he opens it. And put some on your door, so you hear when he opens it.
Ohh, the bells on the door are an excellent idea. Or a windchime that will hit even if he opens the door really, really slowly.
;)
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