Sunday, January 18, 2009

Dispatch from the Fortress of Solitude

Is anyone there? Please, anyone? I need help. I've holed myself up in the bathroom while the Beast sleeps. My wife is sleeping because she took a job doing the midnight shift at the front desk of our apartment building. She does this on the weekends--Saturday and Sunday morning--and has to catch up on sleep for the rest of the day. That leaves me on babysitting duties the whole day, and I have work to do.

Please, somebody help me. He'll wake at any moment. Any sound could set him off. A dog has been barking in a nearby apartment since eight o'clock. Someone is playing hip-hop music. My situation is PRECARIOUS! I have dozens of e-mails to catch up on. I'm starving. I haven't showered. And this is the first time in 48 hours that I've been able to go to the bathroom. So, I'm multi-tasking.

He's sweet, I know. He's a very good boy. But he also likes to whack his head into things, and has a deadly affinity for light sockets. And even if the Boy doesn't kill me, the Mother will. While I merely try to keep our son alive, the house descends into a minefield of blocks, singing bear toys and Tupperware. If she wakes before I can clean it, she'll have my...hands.

Oh no! I heard a sound. Something down the hallway is stirring. Wait--is the bathroom door locked? Oh no! And my pants are still down! Help! No! You can't come in! Get out of that! Noooo!

No comments: