Please Stand By . . .

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I wrote until almost midnight last night, fueled by inspiration, an afternoon nap, and more chocolate than I will ever admit to consuming (only my dentist will know for sure).*

Two hours after the inevitable sugar crash cut me off mid-sentence and I dragged my doomed rear to bed, Sunny decided she was lonely and scared and her tummy hurt.  I spent an uncomfortable few hours scrunched up in her day bed, before she was asleep enough to allow my escape.

My husband had rolled over in my absence, taking the covers and the cat with him.  I took ‘em back and snuggled in.

And then my alarm went off.

That’s why whatever comments I’ve left around the Internet have been more incoherent than usual and why there’s not much of a post here today.  At least, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.**

Tune in tomorrow when I will explain why there is a giant stuffed gorilla  in my living room, with photos.

_____

* I’m afraid to look at the pages, lest they be filled with references to Cadbury Crème Eggs and peanut butter meltaways.

**Since I’m about 35% sugar and chocolate solids right now—on the principle of you are what you eat—I’m sticking to everything . . .

_____

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13 thoughts on “Please Stand By . . .

  1. Ah, the perils of Easter. My 16-year-old came home from her dad’s house last night with a tummyache of her own. I believe she actually growled at me when I offered a Tums.

  2. They know! How is it, why is it, that whenever we decide to stay up and do something just for us, just solely for our own purposes you can guarantee a child will need you.
    My mother-in-law incessantly tells me how they’re only young for such a short time, and I have to stop myself from saying, Thank God!
    Don’t get me wrong, I adore my kids, but there is a time that you really just beg for a moment to yourself without the punishment of additional sleep deprivation…

  3. this easter, i was introduced to a chocolate shop nearby that makes chocolate covered peeps. they will be the death of me, i’m sure of it.

  4. Way too many times, have I heard you writing till you crash, leading a child to sleepy land and then missing the bus yourself! Your alarm clock so has something against you. Get some rest! (But at least, you got some work done. I can’t say as much!)

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