There is a strange clicking and grinding noise that floats up the stairs into my sleepy ears and my husband shouts down ,”Hey, stop that!”. A tiny girly “okaaaaayyy” pings back. We close out eyes because its Saturday, 10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1, GRINDGRINDGRINDscrapescrapescrape. “HEY. STOP THAT.” A tiny girl says perplexed, “OH? okkkkaaayyyy.”.
I give up and shuffle downstairs grateful actually to have an excuse to get up and pee. I hear tiny baby cats and small human children stomping around complaining about the lack of breakfast in chorus. I kiss tiny blond dirty children repeated until Chica says,”You are squashing me with kisses.” and I say, “Yes I am.” Spawn just babbles nonstop about Pokemon and who is legendary, who has more points, who evolves into rocks and my mind goes all gooey like it does when I think about chores, math and following a map. Incomprehensible. Spawn asks, “Hey, Mama, can I ask you something?” I look at him in response and he says, “mama, can I ask you something?” I bug my eyes out at him staring him down. He speaks again, “Mama, can I ask you something?” I look at him and say, “You just did. Like , 3 times?” “Nu-uh, I haven’t asked you anything.” I sigh and say, “Go ahead.” Spawn draws a deep breath and says,”Okay, can I ask you something?”
gggaaaaahhhhhhhhh. (clutches throat as if choking on the repetition of it all, falls over and dies.)