That is the dumbest title for a blog, ever. But I am not going to change it. Instead, I may try to make a limerick out of it later, if time permits.
It is raining here. Not the kind of rain you let your kids play in. Not the spring showers poetic kind of rain. This is the kind of rain that kills old ladies and fledgling plants. This is the kind of rain that wakes up children and lures bugs indoors.
This is crazy rain. Pounding rain.
I knew last night that SnugglePants would never make it through the night without coming down to me. She’s been in a strange sleep pattern anyway, waking up at 3something each night. This, I do not prefer. But it is very difficult to be mad at her when she is whimpering and scared and begging you for help right there at eye level. At 1:30 a.m., she came for me and dragged me out of bed. I walked her back up to her room. After the whole go-back-to-sleep song and dance that we do, I noticed a sizable roach on the ceiling, oh…about a foot from Beloved, who sleeps on the top bunk. This was not ideal. My choices were very limited. Run for Todd? No. No time for that. Our room is like 6 miles from the kids room. By then the roach could be anywhere or in Beloved’s bed. No. Not running for Todd. Paper towel execution? Not so much. I don’t like the paper towel method of murder. It just leaves too many nooks and crannies. Too many things can go wrong with that one. Bug spray? Nope. Too toxic for Beloved and who even knows where it is at 1:30 in the morning?
There was only one way to do this.
A book. Waiter style. Kung fu strength.
I got a thin, but large, hardback book off their book shelf and climbed the ladder into Beloved’s bed. This killed me to do, because (1) I was about to be really close to a bug, and (2) I was about to have 2 wakeful children instead of just one. I moved Beloved aside, which of course awakened her. She was very cool about the roach thing. Surprisingly so. Chalk that one up to sleepy, I guess. Like a fancy Disney waiter, I raised up my book and
It was a beautiful thing to behold. I was a bug ninja. Of course, we were all wide awake now.
Beloved went back to sleep rather quickly. Not so with the other child. I ended up falling asleep in the girls’ recliner, just to be a presence in the room with the little one. I woke up at 3:45 a.m. with a crick in my neck and went back to bed.
The rain pounded all night. I do mean pounded. It was relentless. I’ve been in Florida all my life and haven’t seen much like this, I can tell you. It looks like the last day on earth when you look out and see thick sheets of rain being blow about by the forces. Apparently the tornado sirens were going off at the university while we were on our way to church. I did think more than once that maybe we shouldn’t be out in it. At one point, AG leaned in to me as he watched the storm outside the church windows, and said, “Why are we here??”
Well, we went because we wanted to and I wasn’t sorry we did. The lesson tonight was amazing. Very inspiring and uplifting and I felt changed by it. So inspired and changed that AG talked us into Dunkin Donuts after church. Yeah, that’s what you should go do in the middle of a tropical storm.
The good news is I haven’t eaten any and we still have plenty left for breakfast.
And then, after all the short order cooking and getting ready for bed, I felt it necessary to walk out into the storm to deal with…the chickens. I know. It’s almost boring now, isn’t it? Maybe we should get a mountain lion and splash things up a bit. They were all in a tizzy. Hungry. Freaked out. A little more tender than usual. So tender that I thought about cooking one up.
But I’m not yet the chicken ninja and it was raining really, really hard. So, I did what I needed to do with efficiency and speed, wearing a trash bag for rain gear. And I went back in.
And I’m not going back out until Friday.