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Duct tape, liquor and ear plugs: in that order please.

November 10, 2007

Screaming, thump, thump. Scream. Giggle. Giggle. Shriek. Screaming. Screaming. Giggle.

“HEY! Knock it off. Get off the couch. Get off the couch. YES. Get down. Dammit. GET.DOWN.NOW. For christs sake, stop it. Yes. Stop it. Well of course  you got hurt. Animals. You are a couple of animals. NO. Stop. Stop yelling at each other. NOW. You can take turns being the cobra. Take turns being Riki-Tiki-Tavi. One takes…STOP FIGHTING OVER WHO IS THE COBRA!” clump, clump, clump, clump, clump, clump, clump, clump and the door knob to the bedroom opens. D stands there for a moment willing me with his mind to open my eyes disbelieving I am actually sleeping through this all and knowing I am just laying here warm, under the quilts with my eyes closed. Faking.

“SO, are you ever gonna get up?” he says angrily. I roll over and say, “Sure. I will get up. You don’t have to be such an asshole.” I am weary, coughing from my illness and tired from getting up 4 times between 12:30am and 4:30am to attend to our daughter and it is only 7:55 and they have all been up, well, out of bed since 6am. I say when I get downstairs “You know, I don’t give you a hard time about sleeping in when you are sick or tired. I got up 4 times last night. I haven’t slept in about 3 weeks, I was at the  hospital all morning and afternoon and I got up with them both at 5:30 instead of laying in bed until 6am when I had to get up and dressed for school.”

D looks at me like he might smash me over the head with pink glass he is holding as he angrily empties the dishwasher. He says, “OH REALLY? REALLY?” I stammer, “WHOA….you know I hate when you are all passive aggressive. I am sick. I am tired. I haven’t slept in in like 3 weeks and I am sick. Coughed all night. Up all night AGAIN. I could hear them down here, they are like evil beasts. You could just say, ‘HONEY, please come down before I murder a child. I need you to put some physical distance between us.’ I smile at him and walk over to hug and kiss his neck. I whisper to him, “IT is you and I against them. I am on your team. It is us against them. It is okay to just tell me you hate them and need a break versus trying to make me feel bad for sleeping. Sleeping when I am sick and tired have been up all night. So stop emptying the dishwasher. Go take a shower. Go back to bed. Go to the store. Relax. I am sorry they have been so wretched and evil.”

I smile at him and he crumples because he knows I am right. He frowns and says, “But I don’t want to hate them.” He stops doing the dishwasher and and we are both distracted by Chica as she comes into the kitchen. She is naked except for pink socks and her brand new to her sneakers her Dad bought at the thrift store.

Naked, except for shoes, a common enough look for her, and says, “Uh, are one of you going to tie my shoes?”

“Crazy. You are crazy. And naked. Aren’t you cold?” D says to his dear daughter.

“No. Tie my shoe.” she demands. “No. Put some clothes on.” D tells her and she reluctantly gets up and goes to her room for jeans and a shirt. He wanders away and goes to take a shower.

It is hours later and I am still sick. Studying and over the children even though they both took naps. I am sick of coughing. Our house is cold. Heat is very expensive so we don’t turn it on yet. My kitchen is filled with dirty dishes from last night and this morning and I think to myself, “Shit, I should have at least let him finish emptying the dishwasher.”

One Comment leave one →
  1. November 10, 2007 11:16 pm

    This is so incredibly vivid, honest, real and loving all at once while describing so well those terrible moment in life with small children when the caretakers have needs so sorely unmet. You guys were heroic. Except, I agree, he should have finished emptying the dishwasher. I hope you feel better soon. Watching Star Trek. I’d beam over some chicken soup if I could.

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