Why is it always the middle of the night?
Last night, after finally managing to get to sleep (and honestly, what's up with that? I'm exhausted all day and can't sleep at night.) I heard a crinkling sound. Like someone was trying to open a Twinkie or something of that ilk.
It stopped. Then started again.
I groggily patted the other side of the bed, but no, hubby was there asleep. One of the kids?
I blearily stumbled down the hall but no one was up.
"Mom?"
I poked my head in elder boy's room. "You ok?"
"I threw up."
"Did you make it to the bathroom?"
"No. I leaned over though."
And then I realized. The crinkling noise was not plastic. It was vomit hitting the wood floor from six feet up where the boy lay in his bunk bed.
He leaned over the side and just let it fall.
On. The. Floor.
So I cleaned it up and went back to bed. Wherein it took another two hours to get back to sleep.
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