Reginald was slumped on his chair, leaning over his laptop, much like a man who had spent too much time awake the previous night, and had some writing to get on with. In fact, Reginald was a man who had spent much time awake last night and had some writing to get on with. As often in the morning, Reginald was needing some inspiration and not much was forthcoming. He would sit down and try to delve into the vaults of his mind, for he believed there were some vaults in there, and that there might be treasures stored within. Whether it was a treasure of gold and diamonds, or a treasure of sentimental nonsense, waffle, and thoughts ascribing talent that didn’t exist, well this he would try find out. This was quite a task though. It would be like Indiana Jones setting off to to find the lost ark only to later discover he was actually looking for the holy grail, but with all the disasters and traps still making difficult his way. And probably a lot less exciting.
Reginald was a tired this morning. He had to get up the previous morning or was it this same morning, or even this one? His brain was turning to mush and it didn’t seem make matter or sense. Cletus, his fabulous boy of the daytime, and sometime little terror of the night, had been in the terror of the night mode and decided to wake up at around the 3.00 AM mark. Then not go back to sleep again, like he normally did. He had cried and sat up, then stopped, then cried some more. Despite Reginald going in to see him, lying him back down to cries of “Come on, it’s sleepy time, go back to sleep”, Cletus had paid no mind. “I cry in the face of sleep”, cried Cletus as he, well he just cried, and that was it. A 14 month old boy doesn’t do much else at that time in the morning when annoyed. He has not acquired the power of useful speech yet and had little inclination to learn it at 3.00 AM, when being obliged to sleep. Reginald decided that a little cry it out therapy might have been in order, or if nothing else, a reasonable argument to convince Cletus of the need for sleep. In the meantime he had retired to the living room to read a little of Bill Bryson’s “At home”, an informative and amusing read, even at 3.25 AM, only to return to Cletus, and receive the same response.
Reginald decided to admit defeat and shuffle off back to his own bedroom, passing the Bill Bryson book on the way, and telling it that they would be reunited later that day. He flung open the bedroom door and addressed his wife Sally with considered phrasing of “It’s your turn, but maybe let him cry a bit more”. Sally slowly leapt out of bed enthusiastically stating “Arh, he’s cute, I can’t wait to see the little fella again”, or possibly “Oh man, I want to sleep”, Reginald could not remember which. He in turn then fell into bed with the enthusiasm of a large rock making it’s way to the bottom a deep pool. It didn’t help him sleep.
After another forty or so minutes Sally too admitted defeat. Cletus did not want to go back to sleep this morning. Sally did want to go back to sleep this morning. Reginald looked out. Being awake at a time when a Cockerel might consider it a little early to wake everyone up, Reginald could only have been in a bright mood. “Oh just bring him in here”, he cockadoodledooed. Cletus was brought in and placed in the bed, prompting him to immediately shut up and begin the now short process of falling back to sleep. Reginald and Sally were not in the practice of bringing Cletus to their bed and were not planning to continue this strategy. We’ll have to think of something else… , Reginald had thought, shortly before falling asleep yet another thirty minutes afterwards.
Reginald now sat by the laptop a little less slumped than before. Cletus had wandered over to say hello with a big smile on his face. However much a terror he may have been at night, Reginald was not prepared to bring his grumpiness, or complaints to Cletus that following day. At 14 months old, what was the point? Besides, having Cletus come find him, pleased to see what he was doing was still one of lives more pleasant experiences, and on a daily basis too.
Lexicon word for today: Consternation.