Rats, Roaches and DOLLS

“Rats, Roaches and Dolls”  Rats, Roaches and D olls   …..   Rats ……roaches…….and …DOLLS” is what my husband was mumbling late last night after a long hard day of work as he was climbing into bed.  You see after we met, we moved in together on a boat in FL.   Now FL is known for rats if you’re living on the water, even nice neighborhoods like Hendrick’s Isle where we were, right off Las Olas Blvd. (may Jimmy rest in peace,  I know it’s misspelled, but every time I hear that Isle I think of him.)  So we had a rat problem.  How they got on the boat was beyond us- they’re so smart and agile though, gotta give em some credit.  So we had out our traps and the big plastic things on the ropes and fought like hell to win.  Then we moved.  We bought a house on land.  However, this house wasn’t on just any land.  It was a row miles long of houses that sat facing the

Indian River

with backyards up against a bird sanctuary.  Well, that bird sanctuary is a just a nice way of saying non-buildable swamp land.  Full of roaches (not to mention snakes- but they stayed outside so I won’t make a bigger deal out of them, although there was one day a copper head was right there at our front door. Chris bravely chopped his head off. Is using the adverb bravely a bit redundant?!  He chopped the head off a copperhead!)  So anyway, after we unpacked and settled in, we began receiving little brown presents… left everywhere.  We called in the exterminators and fought like hell to win.  Then we moved.  And it’s been two and half years of pure rat and roach free living.  No problems.   Till recently.  Dolls.  No no, it’s not some weird termite nickname, or a virus carried in the Mistrals, it’s just Dolls.  My husband stays up later than us watching the markets opening and shutting all over the world- that job is never the same, can be up, can be down, but never the same.  At night though, usually after the Japanese market has opened, he performs his ritual. He sneaks in, turns on the bathroom light, brushes his teeth, goes to the bathroom, checks to see where Haven is in our bed, yep, a good ol’ family bed, and maybe Haven will require a push or two towards me before he can fit in the bed, and then lights out.  Voila, simple and down pat.  Till recently.  You see we have a little boy turning three on the 22^nd of this month.  He’s into role playing now and his favorite character to be is, Papa.  This would be all swell and sweet, but it also means that during our bedtime ritual, we now have to include his babies.  And they have to be placed gently on Papa’s pillow, with the covers pulled up to their chins, and I have to hold up our story books higher than usual so his babies can see as well.  How can I tell him he has to stuff his babies into a dark box for the night, or put them alone in the other room?  What would be the point of having a family bed if it didn’t apply to his children?  What kind of father would he be?  Oh I’d be riddled with guilt.  The babies had to stay.

So now, when Chris comes to bed, he has to fight with the Dolls. Are there any hidden under the sheets?  Under the pillow?  Where to put them?  Oh one is talking now and how in the world did that happen?  This one better not peee.  UGH!!!! Rats Roaches and Dolls.  But really, having your bed infested with dolls isn’t that bad.  I just found his late new night mantra to be quite comical.  Hey it could be worse- Rats Roaches and Mumma’s new boyfriend! Ha ha ha  Totally kidding!

Comments

[Mom]

What a riot! I can just hear Chris sputtering! You are right though - those babies could never be put in a dark toy box when the boy that loves them is asleep in the bed. You are soooooo good to realize that. That is one of the many thousand reasons I love you guys. 3 mom