SLEEPLESS IN TOLEDO

I thought a delicious cup of coffee sounded good Saturday night.

Actually, what I needed was a few shots of Jose Cuervo.

It was a sleepover at grandma’s.

“Stop it!" I yelled storming into my living room. "My couch is not a trampoline!"

My three grandkids giggled and jumped around in their pajamas ignoring me as if I was paint on the wall.

“Enough already! It’s midnight!” I screamed even louder.

OH, MY GOD, MIDNIGHT!

And not a yawn or droopy lid among them!

But in all fairness to them, it wasn’t their fault.

They came over to make Christmas cookies—that have sugar in them.

They came over to make fudge—that has sugar in it.

They came over to drink hot cocoa—that has sugar in it.

And then I gave them candy canes to stir their hot cocoa with—even more sugar!

If I had been using my brains—or was sane—I would have had my grandkids over at 9 A.M.  

That way, there would have been at least twelve hours for . . .

The sugar to take control of them . . .

Turn them into screaming mee-mee’s . . .

And then by 9 P.M., the sugar would have worn off and they’d finally go to sleep!

And me too.

Always, Em-Musing