Where are my kids, you ask?
(Read two or three entries back to discover, Gentle Reader, that it’s around 2 AM and I’m playing Mah Jong while waiting for my man to come over.)
The kids are hardcore asleep. In the morning they’ll wake up and quietly play video games. They can eat fruit or sandwiches while they wait. But usually I don’t sleep past 8:30 AM, even if I went to bed three hours before. It’s just not in my nature. Plus, the video game music wakes me up. If that doesn’t, it’ll be a dream about having to pee. And if that doesn’t wake me up, it’ll be a phone call from my mom. I always forget to turn off the ringer on nights that I go to bed very late. But even if I remembered, I wouldn’t. What if there’s an emergency? And even if I do remember to turn off the ringer, I forget to turn down the answering machine and at 7 AM I’ll be startled out of bed by my mom’s disembodied voice going, “Precious, I guess you’re asleep now. I’ll call you back later.” So don’t worry. I won’t sleep too late.
My motto is, “You can sleep when you’re dead.”
It would be cold-blooded if, after you died, you found out that they didn’t let you sleep at all. But by then, why would you care?
See? Things have a way of working out.
