Stuffed Animal Plastic Surgery

I wrote exactly one sentence last night and it wasn’t even especially inspired.  I have a daunting assignment ahead of me, and last night didn’t get me anywhere closer to the light at the end of the tunnel. 

My Honey and I each got a child to bed, snuggled in with their respective beds with their “backies” and cuddly animals, and he figured they were down for the count.  One of his friends was playing last night so he went to their show.  I settled into my comfy desk chair, cranked up the air conditioner, and prepared to play God and mess up some lives. 

8:35        The Bandit comes in because his neck hurts and he needs medicine.  I kiss him all over, spreading the Magical Mommy Medicine all over his neck.  I tuck him back in and leave the room.

8:40        I let Roscoe in because he’s baying outside the French Doors to the back yard. 

8:45        The Bandit is back.  This time he claims the dog is bothering him.  I know, little man, the dog is bothering me, too.  I tuck him back in his bed and remonstrate the Idiot Dog and tell him to leave the boy alone.

9:00        I let Roscoe back outside because he’s clawing the door.

9:02        I let Roscoe back inside – the baying has begun in earnest again.

9:15        The Bandit is back.  He needed to go potty.  He walked all the way through the house to the furthest opposite corner to tell me he was out of bed ONLY because he had to go potty.  I march his happy little butt in the cowboy jammies back to his room.

9:17        I let Roscoe back outside.

9:21        I let Roscoe back inside.

9:37        I let Roscoe back outside.  I slam the door this time.

9:45        I hear The Bandit singing in his room.  “Take Me Out to The Ballgame” is his song of choice.  I tell him to go to sleep.

9:47        I let Roscoe back inside.  I shake my finger at him and tell him to behave.  He gallops away, tongue lolling out of his goofy mouth without a care in the world.

10:00     The Bandit is back.  This time the dog is stealing his stuff.  I go to the living room where Roscoe is standing on top of the coffee table, stuffed monkey in his mouth, his eyes wild with the hopes of a game of chase.  Fortunately, I am smarter than the dog – just barely.  For as big as he is, he’s very good at dodging and weaving.  The Bandit laughs with glee.  Oh, he’s awake now.

10:15     Miraculously, both the dog and The Bandit have fallen asleep.  Look, aren’t they cute.

10:16     I give up on writing tonight.  After all that, it’s just not there tonight.  Besides, Project Runway is on.

11:30     I wander out to the living room and there is the desiccated remains of the Super Dooper Snuggle Bear.  OH NO! One leg is completely missing.  There’s stuffing everywhere.  OH THE HUMANITY!  The Super Dooper Snuggle Bear is The Bandit’s special bear.  He is very dear.  Unfortunately, he has been in Roscoe’s jaws before.  He no longer has ears or a tail – just pitiful little raggedy stubs where ears and tail should be.  The leg has been torn off two times prior.  I scoop up the remains and spend the next hour and a half sewing him back together.  The Bandit can’t see him like this.  It’s too dreadful.  I must protect the innocent.

1:15        I turn out the lights and go to bed, only for My Honey to come home filled with stories and gossip to share.

I wrote one whole sentence the entire night.  Deep sigh.