Right now, he looks like an angel. He’s fast asleep and little baby snores are wafting slowly around him. Really, I can see them. Like little cartoon Zs with wings and agitrons (they’re related to grawlixes).
Agitrons: wiggly lines around a shaking object or character.
Grawlixes: typographical symbols standing for profanities, appearing in dialogue balloons in place of actual dialogue.
His little nose is tucked under and he’s just a ball of adorable love.
Not so a few hours ago.
4:47am to be precise.
That’s when he began to bark.
First a warning bark or two. Then a cascade of Get Away From My House arpeggios. Followed by a full-on The Huns Are Invading alert. After 6 or 7 weeks of this, I hauled myself out of bed to investigate.
I took the baby for a walk (which he enjoyed very much) and gave him breakfast (which he also enjoyed very much) and then he settled himself on his pillow for the aforementioned snooze. I still have no idea what caused the middle of the night call to
arms feet paws. And surprisingly, he’s not talking.
(Note: Dad just came downstairs. “You,” he said looking at me and ignoring the Puppy’s flopping tail, “took the bait.”
I thought grawlixes.
“I don’t know why you didn’t just go out into the hall. That quiets him down and you could have gone right back to bed.”
Note on the Note: Doesn’t matter how hard you look, you will not be able to find Dad’s body.)
In all likelihood I will be napping this afternoon.