I did not sleep well last night.
It may have everything to do with the fact that the boy woke me up at 12:30 this morning, because his mouth was aching with the hurt of forty-eleven razorblades, and he wanted Advil for a midnight snack.
Oh, Spacers-Between-His-Molars! You’re awfully mean.
He simply stood beside my bed and touched my shoulder, while I was sleeping. I opened my eyes, and THERE HE WAS, so I did what I normally do in situations like that.
And then I flopped around in the covers like a bobcat in a fishing net, trying to get out of the bed to fight the battle that had summoned me from my dreams. The battle turned out to be a twelve-year-old that I’d scared the snot out of.
Now we’re even, Son.
I pretended that I was a nurse on the night shift and handed out Ibuprofen like an RN with lots of “Employee of the Month” credits behind her name. My only discredit is that I’m not my glorious, sunshiny self while I’m working the night shift.
Especially after I’ve just fought a comforter and a quilt.
After I’d sent my patient back to bed, I tried to do the same, but the sleep was over for me. I think you could spell it out as ADRENALINE.
But none of that has anything to do with tonight’s blog post, because tonight we’re going to talk about water tables and babies. It’s because I think I’ve talked the braces to death lately.
On Saturday, Hubs’ parents went to Bigger Town, USA for a little shopping adventure. What I’m pretty sure of is that Hubs’ dad did not wail and moan and carry on in a dramatic fashion when Hubs’ mama suggested that they swing by the mall.
They brought a little water table home for Thing 2, and a gift card for video game purchases for the boy, which has already been spent to the tune of “This game and these controllers took the entire gift card, plus eighty-one cents that I had to borrow from my dad.”
On Sunday afternoon, while the boy was out golfing with Enzo, Thing 2 talked us into using his water table. It came with the words SOME ASSEMBLY REQUIRED. When I see those words, I don’t need to read a single sentence further, because I’m all, “HUBS!!”
(I’m pretty sure that those words were part of our marriage vows. Hubs promised to take over anything that required some assembly or a lot of assembly.)
Thing 2 helped with the assembly, because he’s not afraid to just be in the way and take pieces and parts that you might need in a couple of seconds.
It was more like a hot tub than a playland.
We also had Hydration Hour on Sunday afternoon. Thing 2 decided that COFFEE from the water table was every bit as good as when he gets it out of the toilet.
Thing 2 played on our deck in the water all afternoon. When it was finally time to come indoors, our baby put on a show for the neighbors. Hubs and I pulled him inside while he was kicking and flailing and shouting that he WASN’T DONE SPLASHING IN THE WATER YET, and HOW DARE YOU YANK ME INSIDE FOR SOMETHING TO EAT WHEN ALL THAT WATER IS STILL OUT THERE?
He is quite passionate about playing outdoors, people.
I’d show you snapshots of the boy and Enzo while they were golfing, but there are none. It’s because Enzo’s dad picked the boy up and dropped them off at the course, and you know how dads are. They’re eternally awfully at remembering to JUST TAKE A PICTURE TO PRESERVE THE MEMORY ALREADY! The boy came home late Sunday evening with some pink cheeks from all the sunshine and an enormous grin. That boy would golf seven days a week, if school and chores didn’t get in his way.
Y’all have a blessed Tuesday evening.