Monday morning started for me at 2am when Ellie woke up with a gasp and a scream.  I waited as she cried a little, then she started to belt it out and beg to get in my bed with me.  I complied.  She had had a bad dream and was not going to calm down on her own.  At 2:30 we were side by side in the large bed.  For the next three hours she would toss, turn, kick, flip, thrash, shove, and abuse me.  Finally at 5:30 I rolled my back to her and let her shove her right foot comfortably into my neck and lay her left leg across the top of my head. 

For what ever reason, that made he comfortable.

Finally... sleep. 

An hour and a half later I heard Jr. enter my room and woke abruptly to his cold snort in my face.  Through sandy eyes I notice the clock.

 CRAP!  I lept from the bed...

 I was late.

Sunday afternoon I saw Ellie playing with my alarm clock.  Before bed I checked the times and made sure that every thing was set perfectly.  I did not however, check the dials to make sure we were on an actual channel with volume.  She had turned them both off.

 I got to work 10 minutes late, checking on Ellie laying cross ways in my bed every few minutes.  Finally at around 7:40 Maggie barked at Jr. , the toy and the couch in one big puppy ruff. 

Surely, that must have done it

I walked down the hallway and peeked through the door into the pitch black room to see a silhouette of a small two year old with her hair all a mess sitting upright in my bed.  Sitting quietly...staring back at me...

     ...creepie...

Ellie got off to Grandma's with little fuss, and my day was a typical Monday...morons asking me stupid questions because they can't read.  Redundant lists of work being sent to me by three different people...scrounging for production, yet working mandatory Over Time...(I don't mean to complain, I do have a job.)

    ...until Grandma called to tell us that she had just threw up all over the living room...

                      .....yeah....

  

"Just another Manic Monday...."