It's morning. I think. It was just night a few minutes ago. I think. Kept the wild monkey boy up till around 12:30am thinking he'd sleep in and let Daddy sleep the day after surgery. BAHAHAHAHA. I am so funny. And not so good at thinking.
Yeah, Pipe Dreams- I got 'em.
He was up at 6:43. And 6:55. And 7:05 for good. Wait...for good? Um...no. Finally up at 7:05. And so was Daddy. So much for post-op rest and recovery. He doesn't need it anyhow. Obviously.
He is currently racing up and down the hallway yelling "I fast!" Bub, NOT Daddy. Daddy is not so fast this morning. I have no idea where he gets all that energy. If I could have a fraction of it, I'd be running up and down the hall, too. Possibly with no pants. No, can't do that. Responsible adult and stuff. Leading by example. Crap.
His chatterbox seems to be turned on high, too. And I had no idea he had so many toys that make noise until he started bringing one with him each time he's come down the hall. Oh, who we kidding? Yes, I did. I've bought most of them in some fit of insanity.
Lord, please keep your hand of protection over this child cuz I have a feeling he's gonna need it. Tired mama+post-op daddy+wild son= catastrophic disaster. This is shaping up to be a doozy of a day.
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