Written 22 August, 2009
It's after midnight and I'm nodding away at the keyboard, but Sweetie has decided she has to have a bedtime blog, and who am I to deny her?
She's really good at wheedling.
"Will you please write me a blog?"
"You've not blogged for four days? Don't you feel the need to write a blog?"
"All I ask for is one little blog."
"If you don't write a blog I'll never get to sleep!"
So okay, here is her blog.
"What?" Sweetie says.
"Yep. This is your blog."
"Unacceptable!" Sweetie says, and proceeds to laugh like a chipmunk at her own joke.
If you've never heard Sweetie's laugh, think Alvin the Chipmunk.
Now think of Alvin on helium.
It's like that silly LOL Second Life gesture, only nuclear powered.
Sweetie gets like this a lot around bedtime. We think she gets consciousness hypoxia.
"I don't WANNA go to bed!"
You don't usually hear that from anyone over six or seven years of age.
But Sweetie, she will not go gentle into that good night.
It's at this time that she gets her best ideas.
And it's my job to write them all down.
I'm like Sweetie's stenographer. Unpaid.
Oh. Sweetie says I work for fabulousness.
She says, "That's the damn thing about having a muse. Once you have one, you can't get rid of her."
Insert chipmunk laugh here.
Before long Sweetie's last burst of nervous mental energy will have manifested and she will fall asleep on me. Oops! There she goes.
Leaving me to blog on demand at mindight.
The last thing she murmers before she drops off is, "See? You wrote me a blog!"