"Psssssst."
"Psssssst."
"PSSSSSST!"
Little Billy is signaling me as I walk past his bedroom. He's supposed to be asleep, but after a week of Spring Break, his sleep schedule is monumentally screwed up and he is still lying awake at 11:00 - looking at the ceiling and searching for someone to talk to.
"Come here."
"Come here."
"Come say good night to me."
"Come give me a hug."
"Mom - come see me!"
I give in.
"How was your day?" he asks. "What did you do today?" Not questions appropriate for this hour of the night, but questions he does often ask his mother.
I pick up the dirty clothes off of his floor and fling them into the hallway. "I washed clothes," I begin. "And, I worked in the office," I go on. "I went to the grocery store, cleaned the refrigerator, swept the floor, cleaned the bathrooms," I took a deep breath and continued, "I watered the plants, cleaned the garage a little and stuff like that." I am now standing next to his bed and can see his face clearly as the hallway light is shining too brightly into his room.
He stays quiet for a moment.
He dramatically throws his hands over his eyes.
He moans ...
"Oh, MAN ... your life sucks! You need some fun in your life."
I pat the small boy on the head, kiss him lightly on the cheek and turn the light off in the hallway on my way back downstairs to do the nightly dishes.
On the upside ... You're telling me!
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