Keith and I have a deal. He's always bugging me to sleep in my bed, so we've compromised that he can get into my bed after Ed goes to work. I mean, really, the bed isn't big enough for three people. I don't think it's big enough for two, but that's beside the point. So he sleeps with a clock (yes, a wall clock. It was his idea) which hasn't been changed since daylight savings. I told him that if the little hand is on or past the three he can come into my room - if it's not, too bad. This morning Ed gets up (around 4am), gets dressed, then goes to go downstairs. He leaves our room, and there's Keith standing there, eyes wide open, with a clock. (Ed doesn't know about our agreement). Ed says "Keith, why are you up?" Keith looks at him, without blinking, and says...
"Well, dad, you see, the little hand is on the three."
Ed, being the concerned parent he is, says "what? go back to bed." Keith goes back to his room, hears Ed go downstairs, then comes back to my room and points out that "Ed is weird, mom".
The things kids say.
Ed called me later to tell me that he thinks our kid sleepwalks because he had some strange conversation about hands and threes and clocks. Gotta love the lack of communication in our family!
No comments:
Post a Comment