The Yarn Strikes Again

Well, apparently the Yarn made another terrifying appearance in Gabe's dreams last night. He woke up crying and was even more dismayed to find that no one was in his parents' bed. Why? Because at 6:30am on a Monday morning, daddy was already on his way to work and mommy was doing her best imitation of sleeping on the couch downstairs while holding the child who can outscream even the most annoying of teenage girls (and had been doing so since 4:00am). Gabe didn't want to get on the couch with Sam and me, so he ran back upstairs crying, "I want my daddy." Unwilling to disrupt the tenuous sleep of my little boy banshee, I helplessly wiped the sleep out of my eyes and waited for Gabe to come back downstairs. After finally calming down and snuggling somewhat awkwardly next to me on the ottoman, which I had fortunately pushed up next to the couch, and attempting to share the too-meager blanket covering my legs on the coldest March morning I can remember in many years, he finally told me he had been dreaming about the Yarn (see previous posts if you are unfamiliar with this phenomenon). I asked him what the Yarn was doing. His response: "He was biting me." And that, folks, is the way I started my day. Here's hoping the Yarn takes a night off. And the banshee too. I could use the sleep.