vickeymalonekennedy.com Blog

There is really only one rule in my house. It’s a simple rule. Don’t wake me up for anything other than a life and death emergency. Life and death of those people actually in the house. Anything outside the house can wait until I wake up on my own.

The kids are pretty good about following the rules. The dog doesn’t even wake me up to go out. He’s a smart dog.

But that man, the one my children are still allowed to call daddy, is an ogre. He insists on waking me up on the weekends. Especially when I’ve worked all night the night before and when he knows I have to work later the same day.

My mother had a bad habit, for years, of calling me at noon every day. She knew I worked nights and slept during the day, but still she called around noon every day. When I answered the phone with a grumpy groggy voice she would always ask, “Were you sleeping? Why are you asleep? It’s the middle of the day.”

I’d grumble, “It’s the middle of the night for me. I work at night, you know.”

Finally broke my mom of calling at noon by calling her at 3:30 in the morning a couple of times. She would whine about it being the middle of the night, and I’d respond with, “but it’s the middle of the day for me. I work at night, you know.” It didn’t take her very long to get the message.

But that man. He’s a little nocturnal himself. He sits up late, sometimes all night. So it really wouldn’t bother him that much for me to call him at 3:30 in the morning. Not that I would call him anyway. But still, if that doesn’t work. What will?

I still say a taser is the answer. My friends know what I mean. Tony is cringing and Jennifer is laughing. D is still trying to find one on e-bay.

Any way, I’m awake. Which I should not be at this time of the day. And when I get woke up, especially more than once, I have trouble going back to sleep. So I’m up, I might as well work.

later,

vck