A Comedy of Errors

Throwback to my college philosophy class and logic proofs.

A.  Our darling boy does not sleep well when teething.
B.  Two new teeth are coming through. 
THEREFORE:
C. Mom and Dad are walking around in a haze of sleeplessness. 

I think it works like that, from what I remember. 

Last night, Stephen got up at 9:00, 11:00, 1:00, and 4:30.   Visions of Stephen's newborn days were floating in front of my tired eyes.  We gave him a dose of Tylenol at 1:00 am, and Stephen promptly gagged, spat it all over himself, and drooled it all over dad's shirt.  

My poor husband.   I speak for all parents, when I assert that some nights are harder than others.  There's no rhyme or reason to it: some nights you wake up and are able to function decently well, and other nights every muscle in your body screams "UMM, EXCUSE ME? WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU ARE GOING?" 
This night just so happened to be one of those nights.

So my wonderful life partner, soul mate, and bestest friend gets.... a tiny bit ticked off.  He sighs, takes Stephen's dirty diaper that we just changed, and goes to throw it in the diaper pail.  Except that he throws it... just a bit too hard. 

I hear a bang.  There's a momentary pause, and then I see Steve stomp down the stairs, muttering incoherently, and come back with a broom.   I poke my head into the nursery to see what's going on, and there is layer of what looks like freshly fallen snow over everything.  Apparently, when diapers are thrown with force they explode into drifts and piles of white dust that smell like pee.  Who knew?

For the good of all involved, I stayed in the other room with Stephen, trying to get him sleepy again.  However, all the action has him really excited--he keeps craning to look out of the room. I think that in his opinion, this night was shaping up to be quite the stellar experience.  

Steve finishes his clean-up, and doesn't want to walk all the way back down to the basement to put the broom away.... so he tosses it down the stairs.  Unfortunately, his finger is in the way, and the wire gashes a cut into his skin.   Cue stomping into the bathroom and lots of faucet noises.  Stephen's night just got more interesting. 

After some time, the baby is settled, and Steve comes back to bed.  There has been no conversation AT ALL between us.... again, some things are best left until morning.  I turn the light off, roll over, and there is a momentary pause.  

Almost at the same moment, he and I look at each other and burst into side-splitting laughter.   

CONCLUSION: Never, ever a dull moment with a baby.