The Demon What Growled in the Morning

Gert woke up in a foul mood this morning. Which is not to say she doesn't normally wake up in a foul mood. I fear it is genetic, for I also am generally not the nicest person until around 10 a.m. or so. As Mom says, we both have a difficult relationship with sleep.

But today was different. Gert was sprawled out on her bedroom floor on all fours with Mom clutching her in the middle, trying to get her shirt on so they could get to school. Gert, rather than protesting in her native language opted more for guttural utterance. In fact, she sounded much like a Tasmanian Devil in distress.

Gert is very cute, and very well behaved. But when she is upset, she goes feral very quickly.

Seeing Mom was in difficulty, and drawing upon my vast memories of film scenes (some of which I may actually confuse with my real life), I sprung into action. I grabbed Mom's water glass, sprinkled water on Gert and yelled:

"The power of Christ compels you!"

Gert immediately stopped and looked at me like I was nuts. I asked Mom if she had started crawling up the wall yet. No, she replied, but there was some head spinning.

Dazed, Gert looked at her mother and said, "The tag in my shirt is itchy". Tag was taken care of, and we were all happy.

I'm thankful it was the Exorcist that was on this weekend and not Mommy Dearest . . .