Last week, Mini did what she always does. She waits until the worst possible moment in the middle of the night and then she crawls into our bed and wiggles until she's snugly nestled between me and her father. She then waits stealthily until we both fall back to sleep. At that exact moment, she turns into a starfish. This effectively ends my night's sleep. Sometimes it happens at 1am and sometimes it happens at 6am, but no matter when it happens - it is not my favorite.*
*When an adult female tells you in a nice voice that something is not her favorite, it means that she hates it. A lot. But she's trying to be nice about it. Now you know.
So almost every morning, I wake up shoved to the side of my bed, my body painfully contorted to accommodate my five year old, who is selfishly splayed out flat on her back, usually with one small foot pressing against my kidney.
The other day when I woke up with her foot in my kidney I began to sleepily wonder how it is that the heels of my children's feet - heels that are ostensibly round in shape - can feel so sharp when applied with any degree of force to my body. On this particular morning, Mini had managed to slowly wrench the comforter away from my side of the bed, so that she and her dad were cozy as two bugs in a rug and I was shivering without so much as a sheet. This was made more unpleasant by the sensation of a sharp heel in my lower back, that had also managed to jack up the bottom of my nightgown. Then I heard a noise. That noise sounded like CLICK.
Click click. Click. Click. Click click click.
Without rolling over, I groggily asked Mini if she heard it, too. Her answer was horrifying.
Me: Mini, (yawn) do you hear something? A clicking noise?
Mini: Oh yes.
(Clicking gets faster.)
Me: What is that?
Mini: It's me.
Me: Whaaa? What are you doing? How are you clicking?
Mini: I'm just taking pictures of you guys while you sleep. Like I always do.
Me: WHAT?
Mini: Your bottom is out. (uses her heel to kick my nightgown further up my bare back) It's pretty big.
Me: STOP. (struggling to turn over so I can see what she's doing)
Mini: Stop what? (click click click)
I finally roll over to face her and I see this. The child is holding her brother's old "toy" that is actually a fully functional digital camera directly in my face. Click.
 |
| Reenactment: Though in both cases she was holding the camera the wrong way. Thank F%&king God. |
Me: GAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!! (leaping out of bed and running from the room)
Mini: HA HA HA HA HAAAAA!!!!
Husband: (yawing) What happened?
Mini: Nothing. (click)
A few minutes later, I sneaked over and took the camera away to examine it for potentially incriminating/horrifying evidence. Because I can't lie, I was scared of what I might find. How could anyone possibly think it was a good idea to give a child a digital camera. DEAR LORD, WHAT WERE WE THINKING?! And her words kept running through my mind… "Like I always do..."
Well, I'm happy to tell you that the camera was out of batteries and therefore no pictures of my huge, slumbering ass currently exist. At least for now.
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