Day 21: Let’s Pretend Monday Never Happened

I had absolutely no desire to write yesterday. I think I was still recovering from my Italian ice hangover from Saturday night. I attempted to will myself to write and then decided on sleep instead. So I neglected to tell the story about…the Call From Inside the House…

My phone vibrates at 4:28 AM on Sunday morning. Once upon a time it was not that odd for my phone to ring in the wee hours of the morning on a weekend night. So a 4 AM drama call is kind of fun every now and again. I jolt awake to answer the phone.

It’s my wife. The call is coming from inside the house. WEIRD.

“Did you get stuck in traffic?”

“No. It was fine.” (It is 4 AM. I would be sitting on side of the road crying and rocking myself at this point)

“Where are you?”

“The couch.” (Duh)

“Huh? Why?”

“There was no room in the inn.”

She had no recollection of me coming in the room to say I was home. After I blogged and showered, I realized there was no room for me in the bed. The dog, lady and tiny human were spread evenly across the king bed leaving no room for me to squeeze in. After I wandered to our room, we talked for an hour in the wee hours of the morning before drifting back to sleep. She makes me laugh.

I also almost forgot the most important news of all. LA sat up on her own for the first time on Saturday. I sat her down like I usually do but instead of just flopping over, she caught herself and sat up for a few seconds. It was so cool to see. She’s getting better at sitting up every day.

My attempt to catch a photo of the moment were unsuccessful but it will happen!

DSC_0077

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s