My Morning Off
I'm not so excited: I have to do all the driving. But last night, Juice arranged for a driving, band-camp-attending friend to pick them up in the morning. I went to bed fantasizing about sleep, wonderful, uninterrupted, morning sleep.
Fantasies are cruel.
On the nights before band camp, I set my alarm clock for 730 am (because the girls have to get to camp by 859). This morning, however, I didn't need to set my clock, not because I was sleeping in, but because somebody got to knockin on my door at 7 am (yes, a half hour before I usually get up). I thought I was dreaming. I thought somebody was knockin on somebody else's door. But when I didn't respond to the knockin, somebody opened my bedroom door.
"Why are you in my room?" I asked Juice.
"Mommy, should Goobs get up at 7 or 730? Cuz it's her day to get up first, and she's not gonna do it, so can you wake her up?"
"Get out of my room," I said. Then I got up and woke Goobs. "Get up, Goobs. Get UP." I said, pattin her on her negligible little butt. Then I went back to my room, closed the door and got back into bed, where I yelled, "GET UP, GOOOOOOOOOBS!" I listened intently and finally heard mattress squeaking and the shutting of the bathroom door.
By then, I had to pee. So I got up again and listened, from my bathroom (which shares a wall with theirs) intently for the sounds of running water. (Goobs doesn't tend to use a lot of it. Soap, either.) Eventually, I heard the other toilet flush. Then the door opening. (Any hand washing between opening and closing? Any? Anyone?) Then I heard somebody knockin on my bedroom door again.
"I'm in the bathroom! What do you want??"
"Oh!" said Goobs. "Never mind." Then I heard the other bathroom door closing. Then I heard water running. I left my own bathroom (after washing my hands) and went back to bed. Then I heard the bathroom door open and Goobs' bedroom door close. Then I heard her say, "Oh!" And the door opened and I heard her knockin on Juice's door.
"YOUR TURN!!! GET UUUUUUP!!!!"
Then I pulled out my bible and started reading it. Maybe I could sleep after people left the house. Juice went into the bathroom, (ostensibly) washed up, and went back to her room.
Where she began to play some crazy music as loudly as possible, singing loudly along. I got out of bed and asked her what kind of idiot she was. Juice just looked at me during my tirade and then giggled as she turned off the music. On my way back to my bedroom, Goobs accosted me.
"I didn't run my scan [on her PC] last night, Mommy," she informed me.
"I do not care," I said, still walking. "Y'all eat something. Don't forget the dogs. And don't forget to get your instruments and sheet music out of the car." I went back to my room and shut the door.
"OH!" said Goobs, who then went out to the car to get her stuff. It was Goobs' day to put the dogs out, so she was the one yellin at Frody when he got to barkin at nothin under my bedroom window. She brought the dogs back in.
The two of them left about twenty minutes later. Then one of them came back and went back out.
I think I would've slept more soundly in the car, driving them to band camp.
Dear Jesus, my Brother, please help me not to kill my children.