Dammit, I hit 'Enter' instead of 'Tab, and just the damn post title posted. Damned whiskey.
A bit ago, I paused Dr Who, and went into the bathroom to explode out some particularly vile butt-juice. I had just exploded like a shit-grenade, when I heard Nat screaming upstairs as if she was being raped.
I had put her down in her Mother's bed tonight, as she had been beastly to Johnny waaaay too early this morning...pinching him on the ass and such. So I separated them tonight, in hopes of a nice bit of a sleep-in in the morning (sorry, Doctor Who's fault, that). And now I have the bathroom fan on, she is shrieking, and I am blowing watery pea soup outta me bum (Dr Who Alert).
Then she shrieks something about 'breathing', and I'm all like 'aw fuck, something's wrong with Johnny...' and I whistle her whistle that she knows that she is to respond to on pain of death, dismemberment, and having her composite parts burnt up in the barbecue.
To her credit, she braved the dark, and I am wiping like a sonofabitch, and she stood wailing outside the bathroom door, and I hollered at her "Is Johnny okay?" "Yes..."
"Well then, what the fuck is wrong with you!" And then, "Can you breathe?"
"Well, than shut the fuck up and I'll be out as soon as I can...no dying."
So, I finish swabbing my poop deck, and step out and close the bathroom door for mercy to both of us. In retrospect, I should have shoved her in there and held the door-knob from the outside while she gagged. But I did not care to have to feed her again.
Her right arm was red. She had slept on it. It had 'fallen asleep'. And then she began to do the 'Dance of Returning Circulation'. I took her upstairs again, checked Johnny just to be sure. He was sleeping like a coma patient. In other words, as usual. Then I went into the wife's room and re-tucked Nat, and gave her some sleeping position tips.
I thought briefly about having her come to my bed, where I could keep an eye on her. But until you've slept in the same bed with Nat, you have never been kicked in the crotch six (or more) times all night.
So, I issued dire threats of mayhem if she went near her and Johnny's room in the morning, ruffled her hair and pulled her covers up and around her, and went back down to finish my Friday night shows.
Fingers crossed. Not a peep...so far.
Gosh, I cannot wait for the wife to get home.