I am speaking, of course, of entering
It all started at a little after 10PM. I was watching The Office and diddling on my laptop when my cat decided that she was going to torture me by busting open the bedroom door to, I swear, purposely wake Kevin up because I was God-forbid-relaxing-and-we-can't-fucking-have-that-now-can-we? Naturally, she scared the bejesus out of him and he woke up. So, I went upstairs out of the bright light of the kitchen into the dark-as-the-bowels-of-hell (not really, but it seems that way when you enter from the lights) bedroom. As I stumbled over the plastic bag with "hidden" Christmas gifts in it and started a cacophony of noise, I again startled Kevin. This time he was startled quiet. I pictured him laying there with his blanket pulled up to his chin and his eyes wide listening for the next freakin' disturbance to his little world. Once his little heart started beating again, he started crying anew. I found my way to his crib and could not see a thing. I wasn't even sure if he was sitting up or laying down. That's how dang dark it was to me. I gently felt in his crib because you know damn well turning the light on would not be a good idea if you want a kid to fall right back to sleep. I was able to determine that he was laying down by gently brushing his cheek. I grabbed his bottle to see if maybe that'll settle him easily because that usually works. Problem was, my radar was on the fritz and I'm not quite sure what part of his head I hit first. It wasn't his mouth. I tried again. Missed. I went at him slow a third time figuring that maybe, just maybe, he'd get the idea and grab the damn thing to help me out. But no. He was too busy gloating at how inept I was and punctuated his disgust with me by crying louder. At this point I admitted defeat and lifted my poor baby out of his crib to comfort him because his mom is an idiot. As he brought his cheek to mine, I was able to determine that his whole face was wet with formula. He laid his head on my shoulder and promptly rubbed it dry on my sweatshirt. If I could have seen him, I'm sure I would have seen him rolling his eyes...At this point, as I'm snuggling with him and he's drifting off to sleep with his arms around me, I had a fit of the giggles picturing, what I'm sure will be, dried formula on his face and neck and had to lay him down before he started crying again because, obviously, his mother has lost her mind. Thankfully, by now my eyes had adjusted and I was able to slip the bottle into his mouth. He drank it and I was able to avoid the "hidden" gifts on the way back out of the room.
Now...where's that damn cat?