Fella just woke up, sobbing. He’d had a dream about Monkey Boy, who wasn’t letting him play with any toys. We talked about how Monkey Boy was in our house and at Grandma’s house, and I told him that I’d been downstairs working–which I was (downstairs, that is, technically using the computer)–and hadn’t seen Monkey Boy. I reassured him that I wouldn’t let Monkey Boy into the house, and I told Fella that if Monkey Boy came back, all he had to do was tell Monkey Boy that the toys were his and that he could not have them.
Rather than empowering him, Fella just became more upset. He wanted to share toys with Monkey Boy. So I told Fella that if Monkey Boy came back, he could tell him that the toys belonged to him but that he would like to play with the toys together. That seemed to satisfy. I learned that Monkey Boy doesn’t have a name or a tail–just a head. I learned also that Monkey Boy is in a movie. That was good to learn, because I was able to tell Fella that if he didn’t want to play with Monkey Boy and Monkey Boy was in a movie, all he had to do was turn the movie off.
Fella asked where Daddy was and I said Daddy was in bed because he was tired. I said I was feeling tired and Fella said that I had to go downstairs and work at the computer, which I’m doing now but I don’t think I am going to get this essay knocked out. I know, Gentle Reader, that you are in the process of copying and pasting the text of this blog into Word to count the words and passing judgment on why I’m writing here and not the inconsequential, 1,000-word essay, but it’s a lot easier to blather on than to whip up a few words about the Cult of Domesticity and the Mythopoetic Manhood Movement. I’ve more or less outlined it. Maybe it will come to me in a dream.
Needless to say, another night has gone by where I haven’t met my goal for my work. I was going to stay up all night until I finished it, but I’m chickening out. I’ve lost interest. I’m thinking more of jellybeans and how the latest episode of Big Love is already online in the shadowy gray corners of cyberspace than I am of this topic (which I spent my time tonight researching), and I’m afraid of what I’ll do if I don’t go to bed now. Besides, my teeth are all icky from eating frosting with a spoon and need a flossing. Plus there’s preschool in the morning, and I don’t think I could face the zoo they call a classroom without a few hours of sleep between now and then. It’s exhausting on the best of days.