My nighttime rituals have changed a lot. I used to stay out late going to rock shows or hanging out with friends drinking wine, come home buzzed, watch TV or play guitar, fall asleep on the couch and crawl to bed about an hour later.
Now with Violet, my nighttime routine has proliferated considerably. We have ‘movie time,’ ‘story time,’ back massage (not to be confused with arm massage,) tell-me-what-you’re-going-to-dream-about-time, and if Daddy doesn’t happen to be home, a long drawn out drama of listening for cars in the driveway, usually involving mind-warping conversation.
There are also many objects involved in this process. After Original Pinkie went missing at Good Girl restaurant in Highland Park (I’m still convinced they’re using it as a rag), we had a blissful period of no attachment objects, until Violet insisted on replacing O.P. So now there’s a purple fuzzy blanket that officially takes that role, as well as Secondary Pinkie, which was obtained at the same time as O.P., but which never really stuck.
Two seems okay…right? But lately it’s mushroomed further.
“Where’s Polus!!” Oh right, the bear. I get up to find Polus Bearus trapped between the wall and the bed. Resume tuck in. Good night.
“Mama! I didn’t put Pika to bed! Where is he?” Oh yes, the giant stuffed tiger. Who could sleep without him? Repeat process.
And lambie.
And Pillow Pet.
And Piglet.
I’m reminded of the classic scene from The Jerk where Steve Martin breaks up with Bernadette Peters, leaving their mansion and declaring that he doesn’t need to take anything with him, except…
Violet’s a lot smarter than Navin R. Johnson though, and I’m pretty sure she’ll grow out of this stage. But just in case, maybe we should plan for some veggie pot pie and garlic fries at the Good Girl sometime soon?
Comments