Halloween came early to our house as last night I awoke at midnight to howls of anguish and found myself drenched in blood.
So had casper come to play? Was freddy kruger waving his hand of steel? or had a wicked witch appeared to wreck havoc on the house?
I had gone to bed at eleven after blogging about how twin boy and girl were failing to give me any blog inspiration. Baby beautiful had drank her last feed for the night and was settled down dreaming of milk clouds with Burt the Bunny. Twin boy and girl had been checked and re drugged to combat the colds so I knew I was guaranteed a good nights sleep. I had climbed into my lovely bed, quite possibly my favourite place on earth and had literally dropped off into a deep, soundless sleep.
However as I tuned out into the blissful sanctuary of slumber, someone in the house had clearly spat out their calpol and decided it was spooking time.
As quiet as a mouse he sat upright in bed, hearing the contended snores of his twin sister he gently climbed down the bunk bed ladder and padded over to the clock.
Now being only four and three quarters the clock is pretty useless as twin boy can’t tell the time. However in his infinite wisdom he looked at the jumble of numbers and presumed it must be seven o clock in a time zone somewhere so it must be time to get up.
Lacking his usual elephant footsteps twin boy wandered silently into mine and he who helped create them’s room. It was at this point that he who helped create them confessed that he woke up but decided to feign sleep so I would have to deal with the night wandering child. What he hadn’t realised was that I was sleeping as if tyson had delivered a knock out punch straight to my head. I was oblivious to all and everything.
Twin boy continued into my room, treading lightly past the drawers, easing quietly over the carpet until he bent down and placed his face a whisker from my nose, so his hot breath warmed my cheek and then he bellowed;
“Mummy is it waking up time?”
Christ alive! It was like twenty alarm clocks had gone off at once; I leapt up like someone had inserted a poker up my backside, my heart was pounding so fast it felt like it would explode through my chest. My reaction was perfectly reasonable for anyone torn so viciously from their contended sleep, I opened my mouth and screamed like I was being murdered.
Twin boy, terrified by my incessant screaming, joined me in screaming for his life whilst simultaneously leaping into my arms. He who helped create them started muttering expletives and suddenly as I finally rejoined the concious world I felt a sticky warmth flood over me as twin boys nose exploded for the second time that day.
Can you think of a better way to start the day?
(He’s fine by the way, just prone to mad nosebleeds! I on the other hand will never look at my bed as a source of calm and peace again)