She sounded mad which was a bit shocking since I had been asleep for many hours and there is no way that I could have done anything that would have pissed her off. Unless I was saying the name of that sexy siren Julia Childs in my dream. Oh Julia, cook that meat.
Then I heard Little Hoss scream and start crying. It wasn't the kind of scream of cry that says "Help, being kidnapped! Please bring me a naked, furry fat man to my rescue!" No, it was the kind of scream that said "I was messing with my brother and he popped me back!" Which was a bit shocking as IT WAS 4:30 IN THE MORNING!
I can't remember exactly what Hossmom said but I did get the impression that she thought this was my fault.
So I get up and go into my daughters room. All the lights are on, toys are everywhere and both kids are wide awake. It looks like they have been awake for some time. And now they are fighting. Over a pillow. a stinking pillow. Bubba Hoss apparently thought if one pillow is nice, then two must be way better. But I'm not sure of his logic here because neither one of them were sleeping. Obviously.
He was spread eagle on top of both pillows. Laughing his little laugh while Little Hoss cried.
I may have lost it at this point. I may have been thinking for the love of god it's 4:30 and you yahoo's are up and fighting? Really, fighting this early in the morning? Farmer's aren't even up at this hour but you two are going at it like Andre the Giant and Hulk Hogan. This is not the WWF, this is sleep time!
I may have yelled at them. I may have used my very low "Dad is super pissed" voice. The one that means business. The one that says you either do what I say or everyone is getting banished to the basement. But I may have been more pissed than I normally would have at this situation as my ribs currently hurt thanks to that very bony and pointy elbow.
I'm sure I said some pretty classic dad stuff. Talked about respect and responsibility. I don't know. When Dad's get to this point it's pretty much talking in tongues, channeling every father every where that has had any kid that plays WWF at 4:30 in the morning.
I put the kids back in bed and turned off all the lights in my haste. Even the night light that keeps the bogey man way. Again, I wasn't thinking straight. When I left the bedroom both kids were crying. My work here was done.
This lasted about 2 minutes as Hossmom got up herself and went into the room. Then she came back after both kids had finished crying. She was not happy. In the darkness I could feel her glare on me. Let me tell you something, that glare is somehow magnified in the moonlight by a topless woman wearing polar bear pajama bottoms.
"Hoss! You do not punish the kids by putting them in fear! You turned off the night light!"
I mumbled, my only defense against the glare. I was sleeping peacefully, dreaming of large cuts of meat that have been aged just perfectly. Somehow now though, I was the one getting the lecture about respect and responsibility.
There is only one way to avoid any of this in the future. No, it's not preventing the kids from crawling into each others bed. It's not getting up and getting my senses about me in the morning before I take any action.
From now on, I'm wearing rib pads to protect me from bony elbows in the middle of the night.