Have you ever wondered how it is that you manage despite being unconscious, not to fall off the edge of your bed? What wonderous human system keeps us on our beds at night- why don't we just roll right off? How do we know, in the midst of drooldom, where the edge of our bed is? I don't know about you - but I toss and turn- a lot. But strangely- it is only after 35 goes around the sun and popping a sprog who is now bed-ready that I have ever thought to wonder about this thing that I have been taking for granted.
James removed the one cot side on Christopher's cot today after another successful jailbreak. So far tonight, we have had one alarmed holler from his room as he hit the deck. I am amazed that there have been no more incidents- although - motherhood being what it is- he is waiting for me to be in drooldom in a steamy clinch with Colin Firth and then no doubt- the little one will roll over and fall out and holler like a wild animal and momma bear will stumble through to put the world right again- and then try- in vain- to pick up where I left off with Colin who will then sadly have morphed into a hybrid of The Fly and Webster.
Why is it- have you ever noticed- that if you wake from a really good dream- it is so hard to get back there- but if you wake from a bad dream- down ten espressos, run around the block, clip the family poodle's toenails, trace your family ancestry back to Adam- and go back to sleep- WHAM! You are straight back to the same nightmare. I thought that the universe liked balance- but this to me seems suckily unbalanced and just...wrong.
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