The R.A. woke up obscenely early this morning because:
A. He is excited about Christmas.
B. He knew we were up late last night and thought it would be fun to torment us.
C. He wanted to be ready for the invasion which is finally underway.
The correct answer is B although because it is not even 7 AM, the jury's still out on C.
Yes, the R.A. was ready and rearing to go quite early this morning. We were woken to the gentle dulcet tones of his screechy caterwauling accompanied by the melodic kicking of his door. It was as if he were announcing, "Awaken! It is the birthday of Baby Jesus! (dammit!)"
My husband finally stumbled out of bed and released the R.A. from his room when it was apparent that the R.A. wasn't going to go back to sleep and we were afraid he was going to kick the door knob off his door. The R.A. ran into our bedroom letting out a yowl that could awaken the dead, much as any cherubic Christmas herald would.
Usually when the R.A. is finally liberated from his room and treks to ours, I am out of bed. This morning I was not and the R.A. found this novel. He illustrated his interest by standing at the foot of the bed squeezing my feet and legs and occasionally chinning my feet. My husband says most mornings the R.A. does that to him. My husband has also theorized that the R.A. is looking for pressure points in an attempt to squeeze and paralyze the victim and/or elicit a death. Thankfully the R.A. is not that knowledgeable regarding the human body and at this time is not capable of such a thing.
Next the R.A. spent time alternating between sitting on my legs and between my legs. My husband and I tried to encourage him to lay down between us but to no avail. When the R.A. did briefly have a lie down it was at the bottom of the bed, across my legs and with his head slightly hanging off the mattress. Comfy - for him and me!
The R.A. did acquiesce for a short time and joined us at the top end of the bed. He climbed between us and then proceeded to jump up and down while positioned between our heads. It is surely a testament to how tired we are that we didn't stop him despite the obvious danger that he could misstep (or rather misjump) and land on one or both of our heads. We were willing to risk it.
Fortunately the R.A. quickly tired of this. Unfortunately he then bolted downstairs with his father in hot pursuit. Further unfortunately the R.A. saw that the living room was full of wrapped gifts. Between his recent birthday and a Christmas Eve party at his aunt's, the R.A. discovered the joys of unwrapping gifts. He has found a real affinity for the activity. On his birthday it was all about the fun of the act of unwrapping and not really noticing the actual gift. On Christmas Eve it was like a bulb went off in his little alien brain - Wait a minute! Sometimes after I rip the paper off it exposes something I am interested in! This is fabulous! More! More! I don't think I have received enough Thomas themed items!
So when the R.A. descended to the first floor and took in the gifts, my husband then had to convince him not to charge the packages (or his uncle who was sleeping on the couch, having migrated downstairs at the height of the R.A.'s one man early Christmas morning percussion extraveganza). As you can imagine, this endeavor went extremely well and the R.A. was quite reasonable about it. Not.
Yowling furiously, the R.A.returned to our room. Now I must also mention that my husband and I have a temporary roommate - my daughter. She has been relegated to a corner of our room while her uncle bunks in her bedroom until he heads out to this new job in California. I am not digressing. This is important to the story. Back to the R.A. yowling in indignation - Yowl! Yowl! YOWL! He then proceeds to run to his sister's bed and hoist himself up on to her frame at the foot of the bed on which he teeters precariously while flapping for Britain and caterwauling. His sister pokes her head up from the covers and mumbles, "I can't sleep." and then tucks herself back in. Clearly this is not her first rodeo with this sort of thing.
Tiring of this activity, the R.A. looks for something else to amuse himself. He grabs the TV clicker and points it at my husband and me in the bed. I don't think he's indicating he wants to watch TV but rather attempting to use the clicker to vaporize us. Realizing it doesn't work that way he thrusts the clicker at my husband demanding "YOU!" meaning, "YOU turn on the TV as I want to watch it because you dopes are tedious."
Of course my husband lollygagged during this task and the R.A., deeply annoyed, rigorously barked at him, interspersing Yowlish with "Backyahdibans."
Once his dad finally got the TV situation under control, it was time to eat. The R.A. demanded juice and Wheat Thins (the traditional Christmas breakfast.) He munched contentedly while jumping up and down on his trampoline. Occasionally the R.A. took a jumping break, moving his yoga ball on top of the trampoline, balancing himself on top of the ball while eating crackers while viewing the TV, a mere 3 inches from the screen.
Oddly enough, I could not get back to sleep so decided to tackle the blog, while still sitting in bed. I have been diligently working, barely pausing when the R.A. has taken trampoline jumping breaks to jump up and down in the bed or when my daughter and I got into a rather heated discussion over her insistence on using my comb and brush to tame her dolls' hair tangles.
Currently my husband and the R.A. are involved in their own animated discussion. The R.A. is hitting his father with the clicker and demanding, "Backyahdibans!" and my husband is responding (sounding more than a little desperate), "I told you, pirate Backyardigans is not available on DEMAND."
Ah, family togetherness. Isn't that what the Yowlidays are all about?
Happy Yowlidays, Reluctant Astronaut!
P.S. When it finally was time to go downstairs to open the gifts, the R.A. did not want to go. When we said it was time, he stood on his yoga ball and declared firmly, "No!" Eventually we did get him sort of downstairs. Initially he refused to come into the living room, choosing instead to dangle off the stair banister while yowling loudly. I think the R.A. may have been engaging in some weird alien caroling. At times he was so loud we couldn't hear each other talk.
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