We had just arrived home from the park. Bacon Bit was very, very tired. And like most very, very tired babies – he was fighting sleep with every ounce of his remaining strength.
He wailed while I got his sisters settled with coloring books and art buckets. The brief silence after being picked up was quickly replaced with more wailing as he realized I intended to {gasp} rock him to sleep!
Five minutes. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes tick slowly past. Gently and slowly, back and forth, crooning and cuddling, until his shell-pink eyelids dimple themselves closed and his death grip begins to slide on my collar.
Rock-rock-rock.
Five more minutes. Eight minutes. Ten minutes – OK. Time to try for the crib…
We ease out of the chair. We glide up the stairs. Tip the baby into his crib. Watch him settle down, with a quick glance around, a sigh, a shrug, and back to sleep. Ah. I have the same feeling I suspect Olympic gymnasts have upon completing a perfect dismount from the parallel bars…
…and then…
……turning to leave……
………I stepped on the garble-fraggled-hazenfefferin’-blister-burbled Glow Worm some {beep honk} relative decided Bacon Bit simply had to have. How the stupid thing got on the floor or why people will insist on buying such things for tiny babies (who are not allowed to cuddle anything in their cribs at night and aren’t afraid of the dark in the first place) is moot right at this moment, because…its cute little face lit up and it began to LA-LA to the tune of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. LA LA, LA LA, LA LA LAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! It does this loudly.
!pop! goes the little head, straight up, eyes wide open. Whoa, that was a close one! Almost fell asleep there, almost actually took a nap! Whew! Thanks for getting my back there, little wormy dude…OK, now, where were we? Oh yeah. {ahem} WAAAAAAH!!!! I DON’T WANNA GO TO BED! WAH-WAH-WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
Aw, {garbled expletive}!! I grabbed up the Glow Worm and stuffed it under my shirt in an attempt to silence the cheerful la-ing – which is exactly what is meant by ‘closing the barn door after the horse is already out’. It is just SO too late. But I try anyway. And then I start trying the ‘well, I’ll just let him cry for a few minutes, maybe he’ll go back to sleep.’ Uh-huh. Hasn’t worked in the last five months, but maybe, magically, he’ll do it this time.
I hate that Glow Worm. I hate it with a mad and abiding passion. I hope that the Glow Worm rots under a thick coating of dust up there on the top shelf in the closet. No, wait, I take that back.
I hope that Glowy is Bacon Bit’s absolute top-favorite toy…right after his teeth start coming in.
BWA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
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