Day 642: More Bedtime and Overnight Antics from Wednesday

One would think that after more than a week since the change to her sleeping quarters that Wednesday would be starting to show signs of acceptance of the new arrangement as well as the concept of going to her sleeping quarters and staying there when we send the natives off to their slumbers.  One would think.  However, yet again, this was not the case.  So, once sent to their resting quarters to rest their seemingly weary heads, the natives, particularly Wednesday start their nightly bedtime antics.

The tribal leader and myself admonished the natives upon tucking their heathen asses in their resting quarters to remain in them.  This admonishment is really a nightly occurrence and apparently bears very little weight with the natives.  Methinks they accept our words as a general guideline and less of a rule.  It is usually met with giggles and laughter, a quick response from Tuesday denoting that she completely disregarded what was said and had no intention of obeying our request and blank stares and crickets.  Always the crickets.  The tribal leader also left them with some very strict restrictions upon leaving their resting chambers:

“No talking, no letters, no numbers, no yelling, no getting out of bed and no singing.” There were probably more, but this gives you the gist of her demands.

“No talking?”  Tuesday asked, one last time.  Yes.  No fucking talking.  Silence.  I want to be able to hear those crickets chirp when I leave this room.

Once our requests were announced, we departed their resting chambers and proceeded to brace ourselves for the antics that would ensue.  No, not our own antics.  The antics I am referring to are those that the natives perform, exhibit, demonstrate – whatever you want to call them.  They are unwanted and are almost a necessity for the natives – perhaps as a part of some heathen bedtime ritual.  Ironically, Tuesday remained in her resting quarters until she fell off to her slumbers.  She was by no means quiet, but she stayed in her resting quarters.  Wednesday on the other hand did not.

During the first attempt to leave their bedroom, I caught precious little Wednesday in the doorway to their resting chambers. She seemed stunned that I was there, watching her, prepared to respond to her next move.  It was like a gunslinging showdown at high noon in a western electronic media program.  She appeared, armed with her trusty blanket and stuffed canine, staring me down like a rabid coyote.  I, too, stood my distance, armed with nothing more than my quick wit and strong will.  She took a step outside the door and dropped her belongings.  She made the mistake of retreating back to her resting quarters for her beverage, which was her downfall.  I moved quickly and caught her as she appeared in the doorway again, attempting to escape the confines of the room.  Denied.  I suggested that she pick up her belongings and retreat back to the room, which she did reluctantly.  Once inside, she gathered up her  belongings again, instead of retiring to her resting quarters and attempted her second escape.

Because I was inside the room, I was able to hold the door closed, just by leaning against it with my hand.  She worked feverishly to insert her little fingers between the door and the door jamb, with little to no effect.  However, she wasn’t about to give up.  Several minutes more, against my admonitions to go back to bed and reminding her of the time ( not that she gives a rat’s ass about time, but that it was time for her slumbers) which was met with disagreeable behavior.  Seeing that this was going nowhere, I picked up the native, who was now distraught, and put her in her sleeping quarters.  She wailed and carried on, as I covered her up.  I left their sleeping quarters and soon it was quiet.

I expected a few more attempts at escape, however, I was delightfully surprised that both natives had given in and fallen asleep.  Victory gained.

All remained quiet late into the evening and through most of the night.  About four hours past twilight Wednesday awoke and she wasn’t about to be quiet about it either.  Shit.

At first she began with The Babbling – her usual MO and her first attempt as part of her waking tactics.  The Babbling continued for a few minutes and then got louder.  She began pointing things out that were in her general line of vision – Minnie Mouse (this was what eventually caused me to get out of bed), her stuffed canine and its whereabouts, her blanket and several mentions of her sibling.  Upon her volume increasing and not wanting Tuesday to wake (I was not ready to be up for a few hours to get the natives back to sleep) I rose from my resting quarters and investigated the cause of Wednesday’s growing mirth.  I found her in her resting quarters, curled up and seemingly asleep, though making sound as though she was awake.  Odd.  I moved her up onto her pillow, covered her up and told her quietly to go back to her slumbers.  No response.  Hmm.  I went back to my resting quarters.

Take 2:  Wednesday remained quiet for several minutes but her volume and frequency in her words grew once again.  So, I rose again.  This time, I spoke over the two-way monitor, advising her to go back to sleep and to be quiet.  No response.  Ugh.

Take 3: Again she was quiet and again she grew louder.  By this point, I was done. D-O-N-E.  It was now 4:30 AM.  I fumbled my way down the hallway to the door of their resting chambers, which was wide open at this point, and found her as I had before, face down, curled up on her bed.  I gave her a swat on her rear end and admonished her to be quiet once again.  She cried. And wailed.  Sigh.  I can’t fucking win.

After this, however, she was silent.  Well, maybe not silent, but quiet.  No loud outbursts as before and she remained in her resting quarters until the next morning.  Thank God.  As for me, I was probably awake for at least one half hour after the last time up with Wednesday.

I am not sure what to think about Wednesday’s overnight antics – there lies a very real possibility that she could be talking in her sleep, even walking.  However, given her propensity toward waking those who do not share her same enthusiasm for the wee hours of the morning, I am not entirely certain that she was not faking her state of consciousness.  Wonderful.  I don’t know whether to be sorry for my tone and actions with Wednesday or scared that she is either a talking sleepwalker or has discovered the ability to play possum.  Joy.


One response to this post.

  1. That was priceless!


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