i am sleeping

I tuck in my children, too late as usual, fall asleep on the couch, watching t.v. with Dave. I wake up and drag myself up the stairs, then fall asleep reading, propped up in my bed. I wake up and put down my book and my glasses, turn off the lamp and close my door.

The cat starts meowing (I hate her, I'll kill her) but after 5 minutes, she goes away - bored. I fall back asleep for a couple of hours, then a myriad of noises wake me once more. It's 2:45 but Dave's not in bed yet. I go to down to see if he's asleep in his chair.

He isn't, he's working, I go back to bed. Irrational worries pile up like laundry. What if the roof leaks, or the wind blows that tree down, what if it lands on the house or the shed? I sing soothing songs to myself, in my head.

I'm sleeping again, but then someone's snoring. I grope for my ear plugs (they're gone, I can't find them), knock down the clock and it clangs on the floor. I pick up the clock, make sure it's still ticking, look at the time, it's 5:04. A few minutes later, the cat is meowing and I hear the birds chirping, so I go let her out.

I fall asleep (easy), then a cell phone is ringing. A few seconds later, I shove on Dave's back. Ten minutes later, the cell phone is beeping. He gets up again, how can he live without sleep?

Soon footsteps are pounding up the stairs, in the bathroom. The door squeaks...and slams shut.

The shower is running, it's calming (I love it!), I'm asleep once again till the water goes off. Drying her hair now, searching for hair clips. She remembers we're sleeping and closes our door.

I can still hear her, I should just get up now. But I'm tired, I am sleeping, just a few minutes more...

this egg stinks

We dye eggs every year. Some of us put in more effort than others, us being Abi and Max and I, others being Dave, but there is always an egg or two that is the "cool" egg. The great idea. The star.

This year I came up with the idea to make our egg-selves, which I thought was pretty darn cool. But then I noticed one of Dave's eggs was missing. I asked him where it was and he said he didn't know. Being a bit OCD-esque, I checked every cup until I found it.

As I lifted the turquoise egg from its long-lived bath, I read the words Dave had quickly etched in wax, "He who finds this egg stinks."

Cool. The great idea. The star. Without even trying...

a poem inspired by the "free milk" man

In this day and age
isn't it strange
to offer free milk
from a van
with a man
standing on the street corner?