We had our three oldest littles overnight Saturday. The baby came bright and early the next morning, very early because of daylight savings time. The curse of the lost hour. It seems cruel to lose an hour ever. And on a night with a sleepover, such a sad, sorry state of affairs. I know we get payback in the fall, but I'm just sayin. Bedtime. The kids were allowed to stay up a bit later than usual. This was stated to them every time they asked for a few more minutes. Finally, they were all snuggled, nestled in their beds. The night light was broken on the last sleepover so the door was left open and bathroom lights were on to act as a nightlight. The faux pas of things I forgot to do or didn't do like mommy were all discussed and laid to rest. The final "good night, I love you's" were said.
Then the giggling and fighting began.
Threat One involved the usual, the youngest would be placed in Grandma's bed until she went to sleep. Threat Two involved a slightly crankier reiteration of Threat One with the ominous promise of "one more chance, don't blow it." Incoming Threat Protocol Breach involved said Grandma swooping in and forcibly removing said child. Weeping and gnashing followed. Threat One, Two and Three involved door open or closed and the weeping decibel level connection. Finally, the threat was enacted, the weeping stopped, the door was opened and all seemed well.
Until giggling.
The other two. Threats One, Two and Three were swifter in coming. Somehow sleep was achieved.
Stay tuned for the morning hustle....
