"I WAS JUST WHISPERING THIS QUIETLY."

There's nothing like thinking I've gotten off easy with a quick bedtime for the kids, when I quietly slide off the bed where BooBoo is sleeping quietly, and...

CRUNCHCRUNCHCRUNCHCRUNCHCRUNCH!! goes the giant paper bag that has mysteriously moved all the way from the living room to the floor right next to BooBoo's bed. It just gets worse - everywhere I step to get away from it, it's still there. I step backwards and catch myself abruptly with a quick jolt of my lower back as my foot finds the stray chess piece, the single piece that didn't make it back into the box. How does a bedroom that's actually pretty clean and tidy develop such a disaster zone at the foot of the very bed I need to sneak out of most quietly? The whole time I'm crashing and crunching around on this darn paper bag I'm vaguely aware of Bug's dramatic stage whisper, although of course I can't understand a word he's saying.


After several loud and painful seconds of paper bag crunching I leap off of it without causing myself too much harm, and Bug is still whispering away too me, with his stage whisper becoming louder. "Sssshhhh!" I said. BooBoo had stirred during the paper bag episode, but he was now miraculously lying still. I leaned towards Bug. "What did you say?"

"I WAS JUST WHISPERING THIS QUIETLY," he whisper-yelled into my face, in that hilariously unaware-of-personal-space way that 5 year olds have, over my shushes.

"But what were you whispering to me? What do you need to tell me?"

"I WAS JUST TELLING YOU THAT I WAS WHISPERING THIS QUIETLY."

*facepalm*

"Okay, pumpkin. Is there anything else you need to tell me?"

"NO!" If someone ever needs a child to sit on a stage and whisper loudly enough for the back row to hear clearly, Bug is their guy.

"Good night, pumpkin."

"GOOD NIGHT, MAMA."

I stood up, turned around to tip-toe to the door... and BooBoo suddenly woke up and asked to nurse on the other side, the side I hadn't nursed him on because he'd fallen asleep so quickly in our "quick and easy" bedtime. At least the stupid paper bag is out of the way now, I thought, as I slid back into the bed next to him.