Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Wishful Drinking

8 a.m. Saturday freakin' morning.  We (hubby and I) are trying to sleep in.  Knock-knock-knock.  We don't answer.  Red bursts through the door and stands over me.  "Good Morning Mom."  I play possum. "Good Morning mom," he says a little louder.  I play dead.

He goes over to the dogs crate.  "Haarrrry!  Good Morning Harry!" In his loud, squeaky, annoying voice.  He can't get to he annoys the dog.  When the dog yelps...I awake from the dead.  Damnit! "Put the dog down."  I say as calmly as I can.

"I just want to say good morning.  I just want to kiss him," he says again in his squeaky, annoying voice.

"Please leave my room."

"Why do you try to force me? Why are you being mean?  All you think about is yourself mom.  Why do you have to be so selfish?"  This is his latest script.  I hear this at least 20 times per day.

"Why are you being inconsiderate of the fact that we are still sleeping?" There goes that Aspergian mind-blindness.

He sits there on the floor refusing to leave.  He starts talking to the dog again.  I ask him again nicely to leave the room.  He refuses.  He wants attention however he can get it.

The dog yelps and groans as if to say, "Leave me the f#*k alone!"  Unfortunately, he doesn't bite.

I stand on my feet and grab a belt.  "Leave my room NOW!" I say in my most authoritative voice.

"Why are you so mad?" he asks?  He gets up and leaves --finally.

I close my eyes and try to go back to sleep.  A few minutes comes Blue.

"Good morning mom! What do you want for breakfast today?"

My eyes are closed!  Why are they talking to me? Why did I think once they became teenagers and could cook for themselves or poor their own bowl of freakin cereal  --I would be able to sleep in?  

Wishful thinking leads to wishful drinking.  All I want for breakfast is Baileys and coffee.

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