Skip to main content

It was a green-sheeted bed, not a tuffet

It was a green-sheeted bed, not a tuffet. And I, alas, alack, oh no, am nowhere near a Miss Muffet.

I've learned to keep a stockpile of food in my nightstand. Persistence had already woken me at 5:30--as usual---demanding, "Eat! Now! Eat!" Half-awake, I'd reached over to the nightstand shelf, grabbed a baggie of multi-grain Cheerios, and handed it to her.

I rolled over, one-quarter aware that Persistence had dragged her new chunky animal ABC puzzle into my room and was dis-and-re-assembling it by the love seat.

"Safe, eating, playing," my mind mumbled, and resumed sleep.

Later, seconds it felt like, but probably more like an hour and a half, something soft tickled my cheek.

Barely aware, I reached up a hand and swatted at it.

I pulled the quilt back up to my neck and nuzzled my face into my pillow.

Tickle tickle, the soft thing went on my cheek again.

I scratched my cheek with my fingernail, and squeezed my eyes shut, fighting wakefulness.

Tickle tickle, it went again, this time also teasing my mouth.

My lips pinched shut. I rubbed my face with my hand, and thought pretty thoughts. Jude Law. Fixing me dinner. Handing me a rose. Taye Diggs. Rolling with his hips across a dance floor to smooth me into some Corinne Bailey Rae slow dancing. Mmmmmmmmm

Tickle tickle.

Irritated, I cracked an eye.

And that's when I saw it!

An ENORMOUS black spider, right in front of my face.

Both eyes flew open and I shot up in bed to see Patience, dangling her toy rubber (aka Jelly) spider on a string over my face. She giggled.

"Got you, Mom!" she laughed, triumphant.

By Julie Pippert
© 2006. All images and text exclusive property of Julie Pippert. Not to be used or reproduced. R.E.S.P.E.C.T that. Please. If you want to use something, write me.

Technorati Tags: , ,

Comments

preTzel said…
I'm LMAO right now at you being woke up like that. Had it been me? I would have died of a heart attack while trying to throttle the sucker that did that to me. *shudder*

Popular posts from this blog

Restaurant Trauma in Texas: How eating out prompted a really uncomfortable lesson about culture

WARNING: This is NOT a family-friendly post, aka the warning I WISH I'd gotten yesterday before I walked in. Yesterday was a Holiday. I hope you heard the scare quotes around that. Yeah, when you are an adult here is how holidays work: you, same workload as always, kids WOO HOO NO SCHOOL FREEDOM. Do the equation. The result is the day I had yesterday. If math isn't your strong suit I'm pretty sure you can still add that up but just in case let's say the highlight of the afternoon included me dumping out the mismatched sock basket and telling the children to have at it, in a way very reminiscent of Miss Hannigan of Annie . Anyway luckily I've taught my kids that Chores are Fun! and they had a good time. Later, I cranked up the fun-o-meter on a bank errand by dropping in the Halloween store to check out costumes, and upped the ante on "Mom needs new running shoes" by tacking on a "Hey let's eat out at a restaurant!" My husband was able to join ...

If I Could Talk To Him One More Time, Today (a Monday Mission)

This is part of the Monday Mission. We're to leave a voice mail. Check out Painted Maypole's spot for more... "Hi...umm...Mitch? It's Julie, Julie from high school. I doubt you remember me; we only knew each other for about five minutes. You mowed our lawn a few times, dated my friend's sister, and were in my AP English class senior year. That's why I'm calling---about what you did in the English class. It made a lasting impression, really made a difference in my life. That probably sounds dramatic but it's true. You see, I'd spent a lot of years being the kid who fell through the cracks in school. I think by high school I'd gotten tired of being the good enough and compliant student. Senior year, I was one inch from dropping out, and I probably would have if I'd had the guts or I thought my parents would let me get away with it. Instead, I just created a lot of unnecessary sturm and drang for myself, and cut school so much that by the end ...

'Whatever' is not an actual salary and it really doesn't buy the groceries, either

Teaching my girls how to pull the rope for themselves. It was a pretty innocuous mother's club meeting, and we were talking about babysitters. I don't even recall why it came up, the talk about babysitters. Conversation unrolls so organically in these meetings, these times we get together, without children, and get to just talk. But sitters came up in conversation and the turn of that conversation surprised me. Greatly. Apparently around here it's bad manners to quote an hourly rate for one's babysitting services. "You know what gets me?" a mom said, "You know what sitters I prefer? Who I pay the most to? The ones who say 'oh just pay me whatever.'" She went on to explain that (and this is my paraphrase not her exact statement) to her, it came across as very forward, rude even, when these sitters said they charged X dollars per hour. My mind rolled that concept around for a minute: it's cheeky and rude to state upfront how much you charg...