The Witchy Hour
Just an hour where everybody loses it. nothing to see here.
I don’t know what it is about 7pm, but it seems that is the time that all the dependents start to misbehave.
The dog decides that after a day of sleeping for the most part - mixed with 100 times of going in and out the back door - decides that when you rest your weary body on the couch for the first time that this means you should pay attention to her. NOW
And not just a little pet on the head and then you can get back to your book/paper/conversation. This dog doesn’t take no for an answer and will pace and pace around the living room until something happens that involves petting her non-stop. It’s like she knows that the day is almost done and she needs her last reassurance that every thing is okay.
Then there’s the child:
I hate dislike this time of day because it’s not late enough to go to bed, but it’s late enough to start going to bed because it takes over an hour for her to get into the bed!
We start by asking her to put her PJ’s on. She ignores us.
We ask again. She plays cards with her imaginary friend “Annie”
We ask the third time: She starts to head upstairs and then forgets why she’s there.
We remind her: She starts to brush her teeth but protests the taste of the adult toothpaste because she’s too big for kid toothpaste and we’re a one tube of toothpaste family now.
We look for her: She’s given up on the tooth brushing but somehow managed to get herself wet from head to toe and is running around in her birthday suit. PJ’s finally get put on finally.
Now where is she? She’s in the middle of the living room sitting inside an empty laundry hamper that didn’t make it upstairs and is tossing playing cards out of it at random. “I’m playing my game”, she tells me.
“Game Over” I tell her as I shut the door on her for the last time:
“Goodnight!” I tell her.
“But I need a huggie!”, she howls.
I give her ONE half-hearted “huggie” and then we’re off to sleep, finally.
I want my hour back.
Good Night,
TH and Co.