Things Are Looking Up...

7, count 'em 7, full hours of glorious sleep were visited upon The Sheep last night!!!! I've been approached by many friends who read this blog (out of pity, one can assume) who just wanted to let me know that they feel my pain. Ironically, they are all parents of small children. There is no real comparison here, people. While "awake" is "awake" your being up at all hours has purpose...meaning, if you will. When you get old, there will be someone there to make sure that you don't die on the toilet or wander out of the house wearing nothing but bedroom slippers and a Red Sox cap.

The Sheep, on the other hand, must hope that her retirement plan is such that she can afford one of the good elder-care facilities. One that does not hire Bob the disillusioned orderly who has given up on ever finding true meaning in his life and takes out his aggressions by force feeding me vegetables and putting out his cigarettes on my forehead. One that believes in the dignity and wisdom that comes with age, rather than guessing how many elders can be fit into one room without a significant loss of oxygen.

I have discussed this with the cats and am fearful that they do not fully appreciate the gravity of this situation. As my only children, I have lavished upon them the finest of kitty treats and my very best sweaters for napping in the futile hope that they will take over the caregiving when I need it. This is not going to happen. They have the attention span of gnats. They will forget to feed me. I'm on my own, here.

My apologies to all the 'rents out there who are not sleeping. I know that you suffer. I know that your job is waaaaaay harder than mine. I appreciate your thinking of me. Talk to me in 40 years. You will be happily ensconced in your now-adult child's back bedroom watching the cable on their dime. I will be standing outside your window wearing bedroom slippers and a Red Sox cap. Call someone...I will need help at that point.

See You Then!
SA