Everybody Loves Raymond (Dan)

Where to begin.

Yesterday afternoon Dan announced that he was tired and that he really wanted to get a good night’s sleep. As opposed to playing Vampire Wars on Facebook until god knows when, he decided that he was going to go to bed by 11pm. Fine.

I feel asleep around 10:30pm. I was so tired that my entire body hurt. Dan eventually came to bed and about a minute after he turned out the light he woke me up to tell me that Noah was calling for me (I sleep with earplugs).

“MOOOMMMYYY. . .I need you! My tummy hurts!”

Noah is many things, including a master manipulator when he doesn’t want to go to bed. And I am weak in the middle of the night. Half of the time, it’s easier to give in so everyone can go back to bed. Not knowing if Noah actually had a stomachache or if he had had a bad dream, I told him he could sleep in our bed. That usually does the trick. And since Noah squirms when he sleeps I offered to sleep in Noah’s room. Noah is happy that he can sleep in our room and I get a bed to myself. It’s a win-win for everyone.

About 45 minutes later Noah comes into his room, wakes me up by whining that his stomach hurts. Next thing I know, he’s getting sick all over the bathroom. And we didn’t quite make the bowl.

Have I mentioned that Dan is still sleeping?

I calmed Noah down and then I woke up Dan. Noah is 50% his kid, which means my problem is half of his problem. And let’s face it. . .at this point I wasn’t completely convinced that Dan was actually sleeping. He’s known for being a light sleeper and I wasn’t sure how he magically slept through the drama.

Dan and I cleaned Noah up and then we surveyed the damage. At which point Dan offered to clean up the bathroom IN THE MORNING.

My husband, whom I love, wanted to let a vomit covered bathroom ferment all night so he could go back to bed. In his mind, this represented a wise and thoughtful idea. He was being considerate of his wife and her nocturnal needs (apparently, we have different definitions of wise, thoughtful, and considerate).

I told Dan I would clean up the mess. He looked at me and said “okay.” Faster than you can say “goodnight,” he had tucked himself in bed with Noah. With a blue bowl separating them. I would never wish for any of my kids to get sick. Yet in that moment all I could think to myself was how AWESOME it would be if Noah puked all over Dan while he was sleeping.

Armed with Lysol wipes, paper towel, a plastic bag and a industrial sized can of Lysol spray I cleaned the bathroom and threw the trash away outside (have I mentioned that I am afraid of going outside alone at night). Now I am WIDE-awake. And every time Noah makes a noise I jump and run to the bedroom thinking that he’s going to be sick again.

Thirty minutes later Dan stumbles out of bed and finds me on the computer.

“Honey, how come you’re still awake? You should go to bed.”

Really. He has no idea how lucky he is that I didn’t post any of this on Facebook. Revenge could have been fun. And public.

P.S. Noah is fine. The reality is that he played hard this weekend and he ate more crap that he should have. These things have a way of catching up with little people at 1am.