… needs to get the hell out of my house.
Little Darling here.
We decided to try out a few things by sharing some personal moments on this blog when we aren’t reading or reviewing. Unfortunately, we couldn’t keep to the schedule we’d set for ourselves, so the book we’d hoped to finish by today will have to be finished for tomorrow. If we double up for a day, it should keep us on schedule til the end of the month.
Anywho! As one of the little darlings without a sick child or being sick oneself, I decided to share how my day was.
I too have a little one, and though he isn’t sick, he did seem a bit lethargic today. He’s two, about to be three this coming Halloween. Now, you’d think I’d have more reading time if he’s down for the count, but no. Instead of a sleeping baby getting his rest, he was a complete sourpuss, grumpy one minute and clingy the next. I can deal with clingy, because Goddess knows I have more than enough love for the little guy. What I refuse to deal with, however, is his innate reaction of hitting when he’s fussy. I certainly didn’t teach him that, and it’s something I’m having to reverse. One day at a time.
But that’s not the story. The short story that I wanted to share occurred after nightfall. We’d just finished dinner (and by ‘we’ I mean me, the little guy doesn’t eat much when he’s ready for bed) when he’d decided to scare the shit out of me. You need to know, it gets hot in the house when the stove’s working. Creates heat, it makes it uncomfortable, and the windows aren’t enough. So we open the door for circulation. Our cars are right outside, and if you’re on the couch, looking over the backrest, you can see into both of them.
As we were sitting on the couch, enjoying the musical numbers of Disney, my little guy decided to look back, peek out the door, and put his finger to his mouth. “Shh,” he said. “Quiet.” If you’re a Disney freak, you know that’s from Monsters University. I always say the lines with the characters and he copies what he sees. So. I assumed he was just being cute, showing off his memory skills to the rest of the family. But he kept looking out the door while saying it.
I asked him, “Who are you talking to?”
Normally when I say this, it’s just a question I ask him. But he looked at me and said, “Guy in mama car.”
I shut that fucking door so fast, it wasn’t even funny. I locked it and pulled the curtains over it. Was I overacting? Maybe, but my family has a weird thing with these… things. When I myself was young (two to be exact), I’d scared the shit out of my own mother by telling her to tell the people in the kitchen to stop staring at me. It was just us at the time, a single working mother and her firstborn.
Needless to say, I didn’t like the fact that both me and my little guy were both two when we started saying creepy things. This isn’t his first incident, but I’d brushed it off as nothing more than him not liking how dark the windows get at night.
He’s sleeping now, which is how I was able to get a review done and do this post. I’ve always been fascinated with the supernatural so while it scares me half to death, it also makes my days a little less… mundane. I just hope the little guy doesn’t scare himself. But hey! That’s why I’m here. 🙂
I hope this creeped you out.
A Little Darling