Saturday, October 06, 2007
parallel bedtime monologues: now showing nightly
This, friends, is a nearly literal transcript of this evening's attempt to lure Finn to sleep via breastfeeding. Finn is a talking maniac. And it holds up well as sample text for what we experience each and every night. Each and every. All of 'em.
Milk. Milky. Good milk. Yummy. Nipples! Ladies' nipples. Pizza. Fock in Socks. Ugg boots. Daddy! Come back! Mommy. Blacelets. Meditating. Candle. Curious George!
E....e-i....e-i e-i...E E....E-I-E-I...e. Old Mc. E. E. Cookies. Cooky. Ai yi yi.... Googengoogengoogen.
Milk! More milk. Mommy hug. Hug. Nuzzle. Daddy's pillow. Daddy pillow. Aaah! Mommy pillow. Aaa.
Aaaah. Aaa. Eeee. Buh-buh-buh. Sleep. Sleepy. Play! Buhbuhbuh. Ai yi yi. Leg. Leg.
Mommy. Mommy. Milk. Hug. Pillow! Pillow...! Aaaaah bah bah.
Brrrrdrrr. Boom. Boom band big band boom boom bang. Bang. Boong. Bim Ben. Bim Bim band boom. Fock in Socks. Knox. Luke. Loke. Loke lake. Aaah. Buh buh buh.
Aah. Vvvvv. Vv. Vwwww.
(Repeat with small or extremely weird variations a thousand times.)
This doesn't mean anything. That we're here and it's dark. Milk's all right. Milk's cool. I like milk. This doesn't have to mean anything. I can drink the milk. I can drink the milk without giving anybody the wrong idea. I can help this by waving my arm around wildly while I drink the milk. See, lady? See? Whoah! Yeah. No sleep precursoriness about this milk session. You can dream on. But...I do, I do kick it a little with the milk here. I don't deny, I don't deny its relaxing qualities. Relaxation, a little bit, is not per se a bad thing. I can let a small amount of this happen. Yes. My eyes, they can heavy up a minute and I can bounce them back when the time is right. Like now! The time is right! Quit staring at my eyes to see if they're closed! I can see you doing that! Yeah, feast your eyes. Those are my eyeballs. The whites of them. That's right, woman. That's enough. That's enough milk.
Up! I have to sit up! Now! It's almost too late! I'm up! And now I'll throw myself over HERE. And over HERE. But here, here is my Mommy. Mommy. Mommy, my beloved. Let me hold your face. Look into my eyes. Look at me. Peach yogurt. Peach yogurt is yummy. Yes, listen to me. It's true. What...where am I? What was I saying? Oh, yes! I'm alive! We're ALIIIIIIVE, Mommy. ALIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE! Oh, take my hands, Mommy. Run through this field with me. Spin with me. What - wha - let go of me, woman. What is this? Who said you could touch me?! Oh, Mommy. Oh, Ceiling. Oh, bed. Oh, pillow. Oh, feet. These, these are my friends. This is my posse. This is my life. I'm living it. Breathe this air! Huh? Isn't it? Man. MAN OH MAN.
Man, oh, man.
This is the life. This is...
Don't think I'm...
(And meanwhile. My entire internal monologue goes thusly.)
You're killing me.
(Repeat a thousand times with two different meanings.)