Tuesday, August 16, 2005

The waters come over my soul

Sunday night as DOB was putting D1 down to bed, he commented, "Her shirt is kind of wet."

I didn't worry about it. Her shirt is always kind of wet, between drool and learning to use a cup. And it's August, so it seems more likely that it will contribute to coolness than to pneumonia.

But a few hours later she started bawling in her sleep. I went in to check on her and discovered that her shirt was soaked--front and back. I changed her and she settled right back down. I still can't figure out how she got the back of her shirt wet.

The next morning I was trying to rouse DOB. He's pretty incoherent until he's had a glass of water, so I sat him up and was holding his glass up to his mouth, trying to get him to drink it. Unfortunately, I overestimated the angle needed and misunderstood his hyperventilation. The next thing I knew the water had dumped over his t-shirt. Within a fraction of a second, he had ripped the shirt off and thrown it at my fleeing figure with deadly aim. You would hardly believe he had been sound asleep a few moments before.

The moral of the story, I suppose, is that wet shirts are good for waking people up, but bad for the person responsible.

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