I can sleep when I’m dead

GRIN# 59

Jerry doesn’t even try anymore.

Putting Tyler to bed, that is. In Tyler’s bed.

The one that cost me $1,300 and took two years to pay off.

If I’m out–whether for a girls’ night or a writer’s meeting or even just down the street,  Tyler declares it “boys’ night.”

And instead of Jerry saying “C’mon it’s time for bed.” He just says, “Okay. Scoot over.”

It’s not bad once in a while.

But more than once a week, and I wake up looking like Marilyn Manson.

Tyler makes crop circles in the middle of the night.

I swear his jabbing foot has given me more than one inadvertent rectal exam.

Often, in the middle of the night, I give Tyler the big “heave-ho” and shove him over on Jerry’s side.

But he’s like a breech baby. He flips right back to where he was.

This is about the time I bemoan the fact that I don’t have a guest room.

Well, I do, but it’s filled with Jerry’s work-out equipment.

I had to give up the guest bedroom to get back the bonus room, which had a gigantic Bow-Flex as its centerpiece.

It was worth the trade; I can sleep when I’m dead.


6 Responses to “I can sleep when I’m dead”

  1. LOL…just go sleep in T’s bed!!!

  2. Chris Donaldson Says:

    Can you not just carry your son to bed once he falls asleep? That’s become Andrew’s bedtime routine. He lays down with Jen and falls asleep (or at least pretends to) until I carry him to his room.

  3. Christa, this brings back memories. They do eventually go to their own beds, but not until they just won’t FIT anymore 🙂 BTW, That’s the title of a Warren Zevon biography–I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead, so I guess now he’s catching some ZZZZs.

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