Not Missing a Beat (Or a Deadline)



Some of you might remember those self-imposed midnight deadlines to which I used to adhere so faithfully.  I don’t know why but I just thought of them and how I would force myself to stay awake some night to get my writing done.  Well, the clock just turned over into a new day here so I think I beat it for tonight.  A deadline isn’t a bad thing if it serves a purpose.  Part of the reason I’m right at the deadline tonight is that my lovely little ones, the kittens, have been getting really ugly about going to bed at night.  So first, if you’re a dad out there and have some tricks that don’t involve drugging the kids, please share.  That being said, I really know what I have to do and it’s just a painful process of slowly getting them back to an earlier bedtime, making them get up earlier, tiring them out, and not letting them nap at 5:00 in the afternoon.  Much easier said than done.  Hopefully, the arrival of their cousin Malia tomorrow will prove a blessing for all of us.  She’s my older brother’s teenage daughter and she’s coming down from the Upper Mid-West for a week to visit and help out.  We’re very excited!  And since my brother is reading this, yes, he is older… considerably older.  Ha.

Back to the restless kids…  in between one of my many trips into their bedroom to ask the requisite dad question “WHY the hell are you two still awake?!?!?!” I heard my daughter crying.  I walked a bit quicker into their room.  She explained, through her tears, that her brother had “punched” her.  After a minute I determined that she meant “pinched”.  Either way, she played this up to the hilt, even showing me the marks on her arm.  I don’t know why he would do such a thing and I do not care.  He may not ever inflict harm on 1) his sister, 2) a girl, 3) ANYONE! (unless he happens to run across the laptop thief from last night in which case it’s blanket party time*).  Boy, she had me completely believing that this was a real injury.  Well, he must have actually done something along those lines because he didn’t deny it.  Just then my wife walked in and I pointed it out to her.  “Honey, look at what he did to her!”  “Seriously?” she said.  “There’s a scab on that.  It’s old.  It’s from when she scraped it on the bricks out front last week.”  I looked down.  “Baby Girl, did you make that up?”  “But Daddy…  he did punch me.”  I have a feeling I’ll be having her guest post for me soon enough.


*According to my brother Sean a “blanket party” is when a group of people sneak up on an individual (perhaps while that person sleeps) and throws a blanket over his head.  They then proceed to beat him senseless.  Due to the blanket, the victim never knows he was giving the beating.


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