I had the strangest damn dream last night. Nay, it wasn’t strange. It was irritating in the same way as when someone sits behind you and spits into your hair. It was irksome in the way that a dog who just licked his own butt keeps licking your hands. It pissed me off in the same way as when a clerk in a store is a complete jerk. Heh. Jerk and clerk rhyme. I am Stephen Sondheim.
I woke up around 5:45 to the baby crying and I went to the bathroom. When I returned, I found the baby sitting in the bed drinking the largest glass of water I have ever seen. She could actually fit her head inside the glass.
She smiled at me and said “Hi!”
I nuzzled back down in bed, knowing I had another 45 minutes.
Then, in my dreams, I turned off the alarm got up, took a shower, brushed my teeth, had breakfast, took out the trash and drove Matilda to School.
Then I woke up. I was pissed off. Not only did I have to go through the whole routine again, for real this time, I had wasted those final moments of sleep in a mad, dream-dash to the finish line.
I blame the baby. Because she’s an easy target and I can’t get mad at her because she’s cute.
I can’t blame Matilda because she was already awake and working on a secret project at her desk.
I can’t blame my wife because she’ll go Kung Fu on me.
So it’s the baby’s fault. She can’t hurt me.
Can she?
Seriously, can she?
Discuss
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