Making It Over The Lake (Part One)

The “lake” of my recent years has been sleep, and while my son has, for the moment at least, stopped waking me in the middle of the night, he currently functions for me as what others have described as “the world’s worst alarm clock,” and I never know how far over the lake of sleep I’ll make it before I’m rudely awakened by him pouncing on me.  Even on the days I get to “sleep in,” in practical terms what that really means is that I get to go back to sleep after the pounce.

Until yesterday.

Yesterday his mother not only successfully intercepted him pre-pounce (Having only occasionally managed to intercept him myself, I know how difficult this trick is.), but convinced him to let me sleep unless he actually needed something.  He’s certainly old enough to do this by now, so she left for work while he watched a movie.  Not knowing any of this, I heard her leave (I usually do), and waited for the pounce.

And waited.

And waited . . .

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