This morning Danny left very early (his friend-that-is-a-girl’s mom picked him up after her night shift at the hospital and took him home with her to hang out with her daughter) this morning. I waved at him, half-asleep. Mike grunted at him. Mike got up around 7:30 to go to the Y (because he’s the anti-me) and checked in on the kids (cause that’s what we do). To his horror, the top bunk of Danny and Andy’s bed was half crashed. Andy was, in Mike’s estimation, either soundly sleeping or dead. He slept through the whole crash and was fine. Mike went on to the Y. I woke up around nine to find the same scene of horror. Andy sat up to let me know he was fine. Tim and Ian thought it was funny. Mike came home and joined in the hilarity.
Honestly folks, I’m living in a fraternity house (minus the guy in the fraternity with the big bank account that always fixes everything). Mike spet the day repairing the bed, but I’m sorry, I just can’t put Andy in the bottom bunk again. Of course Mike thinks I’m being a loon. But, I’m not. Don’t you guys get awful images in your head that you replay late at night? I sure do and this is a brand new one. I really do enjoy sleeping – I’m not willing to give it up.
For the weekend, Ian and Danny are camping so we don’t have to decide anything right now. Gah. I hate stuff like this.