On Monday afternoon, S4 told me he was tired and needed a nap. So I made him up a bed and he fell asleep on the couch in the camper for a bunch of hours. When he woke up, or as he says, "I didn't sleep, nooooo, I RESTED, Moma.", he was starving hungry so we had lunch and then Mom came and picked us up at the empty campsite to go to the beach with everyone else.
That night, he ate a good dinner, watched a movie and then decided I needed to be cuddled to not be so lonely at night as I finished the dramatic end to a book I was devouring at the moment.
S4 talks in his sleep. A lot.
More than usual, I thought, as I tried to tune him out and gobble up the words.
Until he suddenly bolted up, screamed he had to puke, and quickly climbed over me, holding his hand over his mouth and falling into our little closet bathroom that I am ever so thankful for numerous times in a camping trip...especially this time.
In true form, S4 leaned over the toilet, puked and then held up his hand to show me how I was to rub his back. He needs a "puked rub", you know.
And then, in his infinately wise mind, S4 decided I could not, after all, have him cuddle me as I needed him too because I would indeed catch his germs and be sick like him and I need to be well to give him back rubs. I made him a bed in the tiny hall that then blocks anyone from the bed or the toilet and he promptly fell asleep.
Sorta.
He began talking so much I was afraid he might be delirious. I kept checking his forehead. Half the time he would call my name he would be asleep and talking and the other half he would have woken up and really needed me to answer him so I was answering him every time.
For three hours.
He had a fightful three hours. For three hours he had to yell at his brothers, numerous times.
At one point I was ready to yell at them both to stop it and sit on either end of the couch and think of things they liked about eachother but one was soundly asleep on the couch and the other was sleep talking on the floor. But S4 kept going on and on how much his older brother was bothering him and shutting his arm in the door and hitting him and so on and so forth.
The funniest, even to me who was severly sleep deprived at this time, giggled when he yelled out "Eye-Zick...EYE-Zick (S2). When I wake up, I am telling on you"
He didn't when he woke up, but it was still funny.
Needless to say, I finished my book that night. And the ending made me ponder it long into the night as I listened to S4's various conversations, until he finally fell asleep soundly, slept till eleven in the morning, and awoke happy and well.
I, however, drank coffee all day long.
1 comment:
With a title like that it's got to be a good story. Poor little guy. And thank goodness for coffee (for you)!
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