I bolted upright in bed, jolted awake far too early by an unknown, yet familiar noise. I didn't have my glasses on - kind of hard to sleep in them - so I couldn't see the numbers on the clock, and I reached behind me for my cell phone. I pulled it from the holder and held it right in front of my eyes, blearily trying to focus, focus, focus. It was so dark outside, there was no way it could be time to get up. There was that noise again - what WAS it?
My eyes finally focused. 4:46. In the morning. As my brain computed the time, it also placed that noise. It was giggling. And it was coming from Emma, and she was downstairs.
This could be bad.
I swung my feet out of bed and listened. Yep, there it was again - giggling. What was she laughing at, and, more importantly, with whom? I stumbled over the power wheel - a stomach exercise piece of equipment that I'm reviewing, and made my way to the steps.
Where I heard MY HUSBAND laughing with Emma. Oh, no, he wasn't, I thought to myself. With no compunction whatsoever, I bellowed - for there was clearly no other word for my voice - "What in the name of God is going on down there? Emma, you get your butt up here right now - it's 4 in the morning!" Without waiting for a reply, I went back to bed. I'll deal with him in the morning, I thought to myself. Except it was ALREADY the morning, but whatever.
I pulled the covers over my head and soon, I felt her crawl into bed next to me. Fine, whatever - I don't care where she sleeps as long as she does, know what I mean? I turned over to look at her - what in the heck was she wearing? I'm almost totally blind without those glasses, so I squinted and tried like to crazy to place the white dots. Why in the world was I seeing so many white dots? She'd gone to bed wearing pink satiny pajamas with kitty cats on them, nothing white there except the cat eyes - which were apparently GLOW IN THE FREAKIN' dark and all staring straight at me.
Fast forward three hours.
I woke again at 7:45, with the refrain from Bob Dylan's Rainy Day Women #12 and 35 - "Everybody must get stoned...." running through my head. Uh, yeah - I don't WANT to remember that dream. I had to pee, naturally, and my hubby was in the shower in our bathroom, (WHISTLING - I HATE morning people!) so I went into the kids bathroom. Where I fell over a stack of wet towels huddled in a mass in front of the toilet - disguising the puddle of pee that surrounded the toilet and glistened off the toilet seat. Grimly, I set about cleaning it up, muttering to myself and plotting my revenge on the mad pee-pee'er.
I went downstairs to pour myself some coffee...
and DROPPED the gallon plastic jug, full of sweetened, creamed coffee -
which, surprisingly enough, SHATTERED on impact and the full gallon of coffee gurgled out of both the split side and the top which had popped open - and I made a grab for it and slipped in the liquid -
landing upon my thankfully well padded behind -
and I just sat there, looking all around me, wondering where to begin.