The Moon Must be in Retrograde or Some S#$%….
Someone in this photo fell out of their bed last night.
Let me give you a hint. It wasn’t Morgan. It wasn’t the baby. It wasn’t J.
…That’s right, in the middle of the night, I heard a crashing noise and felt sharp pain shooting through my knee and a wicked stinging feeling along my arm. I woke up with the light in my face and J leaning over me going ” Are you ok??”
“I broke my nail” I responded. I was holding my thumb up in shock. What the heck?? Everything on my nightstand was on the floor. That explains the crashing noise. I had a nasty scratch along my arm from the wooden nightstand and my knee was throbbing. Who does this? It’s not like I’m six years old again waking up on the concrete floor of the girl’s bunk house in summer camp with a jammed shoulder and two concerned camp counselors peering down at me.
In the words of my little man, ” I slept hard.”
Fortunately, my hubs is great at taking care of people. He didn’t say a word when I stared stupidly at my broken nail, uncomprehending that I had just dropped three feet to the floor by way of nightstand. J just rolled with it (ha ha) and trimmed my nail and tucked me back in to bed.
The night before, J had been called out for an emergency surgery and I didn’t get a lot of sleep. I’m always too busy listening to every little bump in the night. He returned home around 3am and it took me another hour to let my guard down enough to drift off. The L bug woke promptly at 6am and that was that. I went to training on 2 hours worth of sleep and was literally bumping into furniture before bed time. My allergies had been killing me and I took a benadryl (just one, not two). AND errrhhh…I was so exhausted that I rolled right off of the bed!
To add to the weirdness, I picked Mo up from Vacation Bible School this afternoon and my little guy was wearing these strange flannel elastic waist shorts covered in baseballs. His nap time bedding was in a big plastic bag. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that we had our first nap time potty accident at school in nearly a year. “It happens” his teacher said with pleading eyes–hoping I’d go easy on him. I shrugged and took the bag. Who am I to judge? I can barely walk on my wrenched knee and I’m still red faced from the very thought of how much J will tease me for falling out of the freaking bed the night before!
“Why didn’t you just put him in his extra set of clothes?” I queried.
“He didn’t have any” she shrugged.
I opened his back pack and grinned. “Oh.”
Somewhere…somehow…”Someone” had emptied out his backpack and refilled it with three stuffed animals that I refused to allow him to take to school.