John and I are visiting my mother and father this week, and every evening after they go to mattress we work on-line for some time downstairs. There are solely two issues with this:
1) My dad collects previous clocks, so we’re surrounded by a number of sources of nonstop tic. tic. ticking. Which can be soothing, however once you’re going through down a merciless bout of author’s block, it is surprisingly unhelpful. All I hear is, “Aren’t. You. Carried out. But. Aren’t. You. Carried out. But.”
2) Considered one of my mother and father’ two canine – an previous, fats, yippy little factor named Princess – not solely seems to be demon possessed, she additionally sounds and acts it. Which means at 1:30 within the morning she’ll shuffle over to the doorway of the lounge the place we’re working, sit, and stare at us. And since she’s mildly asthmatic, she’ll be making probably the most ungodly snuffling gurgly wheezy noises whereas she’s watching us. Then two or three clocks will all begin ominously chiming the hour, and Princess shall be staring and wheezing at us there within the shadows, and I am gamely doing my finest to disregard all of it and not run screaming for the automobile once I open the newest batch of submissions and see this:
She’s watching you. Aaaalwaaaays waaaaatching.
And this:
I by no means imagined an egghead with a Tom Selleck ‘stache could possibly be so terrifying.
After which this:
“Ooh, I hated the Colonel, along with his wee beany eyes!”
[+10 geek points if you can ID that quote.]
Hey, you already know what this assortment of scary bunny muffins wants?
Scary bunny clowns.
Wonderful. Now my nightmares could be additional colourful.
I figured it could not get a lot worse, however simply now Princess began gurgle-growling in her sleep (I do not dare look to see if her eyes are open), and I see the Easter Bunny’s tiny snaggle-toothed minions have arrived to torment me:
Nice. And simply once I thought I would efficiently blocked out that scene from Younger Sherlock Holmes, too.
“Cannot sleep. Cupcakes will force-feed themselves to me.”
Tina N., C. H., Katrina S., Kay S., & Amanda A., as a particular thanks for at the moment’s nightmare gasoline, I would prefer to share a message from Princess, who simply twitched and growled herself awake:
Candy goals.
