Tap Tap Tapping

Random Thought Thursday has been pre-empted tonight in favor of Tales From The Grip (of the Supernatural).

So, on Tuesday night, after watching the Pennsylvania Primary results, I went to bed around 11:00. I made a stop to cover The Pony, because he gets his SpongeBob comforter in a wad. It was across the bed sideways, with most of it hanging down on the floor. I lifted it up and kind of folded it across The Pony so as not to awaken him. Then I went across the hall to #1's room to turn off his TVs. I don't know why he has two. He bought one with his allowance money way back when, and has one on the floor and one on a stand. It's like watching TV at The Devil's Playground, the same show on two screens at once. Then I trekked to the other end of the Mansion and climbed into bed. I assumed my usual position, lying on my left side with my back to HH. That way, he can't breathe his cold germy breather air in my ear.

I had a vivid dream about working in some office building, and there was the color red, and maybe something about a sports car. I'm not sure, because I was awakened at 2:10 a.m. by three fingers tapping three times on the right side of my neck. I startled awake, thinking that I had overslept, and HH was waking me up when his alarm went off. I reached back to knock his hand away, and nothing was there. HH had his back to me, breathing away in his breather. I even heard the hint of a snore, which doesn't happen nearly as much now that he has the breather. My cold, cold heart was pounding. I got up. I checked the time. I went to look in on The Pony, because whenever I wake up for no reason, I think something must be wrong. The Pony is my target, because that's how I found him having an allergic reaction to amoxicillin when he was 1 (and had to rush him to the hospital), how I found him in his little car bed when he was 4, lying on his back with fresh vomit pumping out of his mouth. Kids. Life's greatest joy. But I digress.

When I looked in on The Pony, he had turned over. His comforter was spread out picture perfect. Not sideways. Not a wrinkle to be found. He looked like he was sleeping in a made bed.

Something is fishy in this Mansion.

Last Sunday, The Pony came down with a headache, and vomited around 6:00 p.m. Then he fell into a deep sleep on the couch. I let him sleep there all night. I got up on time, took my shower, and reared the recliner back at 5:00 a.m. for my hour morning nap. I heard walking in the hall between the boys' rooms. The bathroom is right there. Normally, I tell myself that it is The Pony getting up to use the bathroom. But The Pony was snoozing right there in the living room on the couch. I tried to imagine that it was #1, but he has to be hauled out of bed kicking and screaming at 6:15. And I heard him turn over and whack an appendage on his red metal bed frame. The walking continued. I did not open my eyes. It finally stopped.

Something is OH SO FISHY.