Who's on First?

It was 2 hours into naptime. Charlie had not fallen asleep yet.

Thump

Thump

I stop and listen. The thumping stops.

I go back to whatever it was I was doing. I’m fairly certain it was something productive.

Thump

Thump

I open up Charlie’s door and he is standing in the middle of his room with a very large man-sized snow glove on one hand, shoulders slumped forward and his bottom lip pushed out, and his long shaggy hair swept over one of his eyes. Wiffle balls surround him on the floor.

I quickly close the door so he can’t see me laugh.

I open the door again and he is scrambling back into his bed. He knows.

Why aren’t you napping?

I dunno. I am not sleeping.

Why aren’t you sleeping?

I dunno. I am not sleeping.

You should be napping, Charlie.

I dunno. I am not sleeping.

Is that all you can say?

*says some unintelligible*

What Charlie?

What did you say Mommy?

What Charlie?

What did you say Mommy?

He won. And then I waited for the crazy clowns to emerge from the ceiling, pop a honking nose on me and escort me by both my elbows as my large clown feet drag behind me to the clown car that waited in my driveway. Because that is how a conversation with a smart two year old can make you feel sometimes. Ah-oooo-Gah!