My squirrely son is, at this very moment, in his room. Screaming.
You might wonder, is he sick? Dying? Given the volume and pitch at which the screams occur, one might think the latter. No one not currently being killed by an axe murderer should scream like that. Seriously.
But no, he is not. He’s just peeved because he has to sleep in his own room, after terrorizing his sister for the last half hour. He likes sleeping with others. He likes snuggling and being annoying and chatting pretty much all night long. He likes to steal covers and put his dragon toenails into the flesh of your back (doesn’t matter that they were just cut again today–his toes are always dragon talons). He likes to do movies lines while he’s “sleeping.”
This last one is the one I find most annoying. It’s actually more irritating to me than the screaming, because at least with the screaming, that’s original. But when he communicates with me strictly using lines from movies, it makes me nuts. He once had an entire paragraph composed of lines from different movies–and what he was talking about made sense. It was super clever but creepy in a Rainman kind of way. And I just wanted to say, “Talk to me! Just talk! You don’t need clever catch-phrases to talk to me!”
He knows the rule, no “movie lions” allowed when talking to Mommy.
In any case, he’s still screaming.
Better than doing movie lines, I suppose.
But so much for bedtime, huh?