I Love You To Mother Fucking BITS

yegads yesterday was ROUGH.

but we did it and we’re here and i need to brush my teeth.

it amuses me, what i think about when i’m so incredibly sleep deprived but have had just enough sleep that i’m not falling over, but propped up happily typing away and that thought right now is, “yegads, the teeth are wearing sweaters of plaque. or is it tarter?”

that fuzziness that builds up over night from not having brushed or flossed last night after a flight across the pond nor brushed or flossed this morning because the AI woke up at three thirty local cause it was nine thirty at home and you got up with him because papa-bear got up with him at some point earlier in the hell that is this night that isn’t ending and yet ending all too soon as the sun rises and the child demands frivolous things like food and clothes and love.

silly child.

don’t you know this is jet lag?

don’t you know this is america?

don’t you know this is not your mother but a zombie creature that looks vaguely like your mother but will obviously be eating your brains any minute now unless you color in your coloring book and now you are and you may live a little longer while mama sips on this ambrosia of life, this nectar of the gods, this substance called coffee in the low lands.

bohemian rapsody is playing in my head and, in my head, i sing it perfectly and don’t miss a single word or slur a single line, but when i attempt to write it down, it’s obviously there are gaps and that it’s either been ages since i heard the song (true) or i have a dire need for more sleep (also true).

so i was up at three thirty, after going to bed at ten something and my fitbit says i didn’t fall asleep until papa moved the AI from on top of me to his crib around eleven thirty, which means i got a solid four hours blink.

well, i wish i had “slept so hard that it felt like blinking” cause that’s what papa experienced and it sounded like bragging to me.

it also sounds like sleep porn.

“the pillow was the perfect density – not too thick nor thin, but supportive in the perfect way – and magical in that it seemed thinner when lying on your stomach, but then thicker when you switched to your side, so that the neck never cramped. and the temperature? always cool, never warming up so that you needed to flip it to find the cooler side over and over again until you finally slept.”

apparently papa slept just fine, thank you very much, and when i took the screamer downstairs to color in my agenda with a creative black pen, he blinked again, sleeping super hard, until six when he tore himself out of bed because #DONUTS.

because let’s get our priorities straight, here people.

oh, yes, and knowing that his preciousness was being watched by a zombie creature disguised as mama but ready to slaughter and eat small children at the smallest provocation.

he came down dressed and retrieved several items from the other floor when I pointed out missing bits in his plan to drive out to dunkin donuts in the cool winter morning that is maryland.

“shoes.”

“coats.”

“pants.”

three times back to the Other Floor and then we were out the door and zooming off to donuts and this is when papa bragged about all the amazing blinking and sleep that was his experience last night and “Thanks SO MUCH” for taking the AI this morning and “Here’s Your Double Shot Espresso, Your Royal Highness” and the donuts proffered without words.

donuts with plenty of frosting and filling and sugar on sugar with sugar.

i love you, america.

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