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The Therapy Sessions
Thursday, February 03, 2005

"I wanna know what love is...."

"I want you to show me.."

Alright, cut the music and crap. I know what love is.

Love is being woken up by a crying toddler at 11:15, and not wanting to eviscerate the little turd.

Love is bringing him into your bed with your wife by about 11:45, and finding out that he is awake for good. (And curious too: in this case, about his mom's boobs.)

Love is putting him back to bed at just after midnight, and listening to him scream until he wakes up his older brother.

Love is dosing the little fucker up with Infant's Advil, knowing won't do a damn bit of good when powerful narcotics are called for.

Love is volunteering to take said little fart downstairs to watch a tape of old Teletubbies episodes (oh joy) for an hour or two in the middle of the night.

Love is sitting here writing a stupid blog entry when you should be sleeping.

Yes, I know what love is...and I can tell you right now that sleep now looks preferable.

My Timmy:

I have an idea, you little turd. Now that it's getting on about 1 am, why don't you go to sleep?

For an hour or two, my wife (now upstairs sleeping) and I (bugging out) have been playing the guessing game: what is wrong with Timmy?

There was an omninous development apparently today, one that I knew nothing about until about midnight. My wife was getting Timmy a prescription for a slight eye infection and the doctor asked if he had been having any trouble sleeping. Why no, my wife answered. Keep an eye for that, the doctor cautioned, often eye infections are accompanied by earaches - and they keep children up late at night.

Well I can vouch that the doctor is right. They do.

I expect we'll be calling the doctor tomorrow:

Earache drops! Now!

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