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Daddy Moments... Saving Private Bunnymouse

Daddy Moments... Saving Private Bunnymouse

Monday, October 24, 2016 - 09:45

So there I was, relaxing in the living room, deep in peaceful thought, emptying my brain of the day’s stresses. It was around 9 pm and my wife was upstairs on our bed, laptopping away.

Suddenly my name was shrieked twice. I panicked and hurriedly scrambled up the stairs to see what was wrong. My wife was in the kids’ room, perched on all fours, her bottom in the air (normally I find this rather attractive) scrubbing away at our youngest one’s bed, ...while the poor 2-year-old sat on the floor screaming, white as a sheet, covered in sick. Sick was everywhere. The screaming was accompanied by her 4-year-old sister in the top bunk, tears flooding out of her pretty little eyes, upset at being woken from her princess, fairy dream.

Orders came flying at me,...run down the (two flights of) stairs, find the upholstery disinfectant and a wet cloth, back upstairs, then run back down and get some drinking water, back upstairs, take the sheet, nightdress and variety of cuddly animals back down and throw them in the washing machine... oh, and scrape all the sick off into a bin bag before chucking in washing machine. This was frightening and of course being a man, I made a complete cock-up of this entire procedure. Without going into too much detail, sick was flung everywhere: missing the bin bag and landing on work surfaces, the radiator, and in disgusting splats all over the floor.

 

Finally I threw the sicky items into the washing machine, pressed the buttons, and then cleaned up the kitchen. I ran back upstairs. The scene was apocalyptic. Fumes overpowered my nostrils. Everything moved in slow motion and the music from Platoon cascaded through my ears as I bravely clambered across the battlefield, carefully avoiding minefields of sick, until I reached my commanding wife, ready to hand me my next assignment. Run a bath, put more stuff down by the washing machine, get kitchen towels, find another sheet, run up and down the stairs 28 more times, and do all this with an obliging, ready-to-serve-my-family eagerness.

Finally, after many casualties (Bunnymouse, Monkey, Lamby, and other puke-blasted snugglies) things settled down. Our poor bug-ridden soldier lay quietly in our bed, with mummy stroking her little pale face. One floor above them I comforted her 4-year-old sister, sitting on the rocking chair next to her bed, promising to stay there until she dozed off.

Suddenly it hit me. I was comfortably relaxed, rocking in the chair with my feet up, sitting in darkness, slightly illuminated by the fairy night light by giant teddy on the floor. I’d never sat here in the dark before. I’d never felt how beautiful their bedroom is at night, a lovely place to sleep. A room of enchantment, the home of wonderfully peaceful dreams. As I sat rocking, my beautiful little princess lay in her top bunk, her little breaths whistling through the silence. Her face nested snugly into her small pillow of fluffiness. After a short while her head popped up, she looked at me with those amazing eyes, smiled, then lay her head down again. Everything was calm, and still, and magical. I was experiencing the most beautiful of moments and I wanted to stay here forever. This was one of the loveliest nights of my life. I felt a tear on my face. I touched it. It was a splatter of sick.

 

More articles from Neil: 

 

  Daddy Moments...The Playground

 

 

For more information go to Neil Kerber

 

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